Tag: contemplative

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Where to begin

I haven’t been doing much if any blogging lately.  I’ve been too busy and mostly without words or the willingness to write anything down. Yesterday, Dara Maria graduated from State University of New York at Fredonia. I am so proud of her, she finished Summa Cum Laude.  She’s a very bright, classy young lady with a bright future and like her father, she’s an idealist.  I think being an idealist is important for teachers.  Ever since I returned from my southern trip last month I’ve been in a very introspective and contemplative mood. I’ve found a great deal to be excited about besides Dara too. I’ve been watching the NBA playoffs, reading blogs everyday, posting to Facebook and taking lots of digital images. Most of them have been with my Blackberry cameras, but still taking pictures and being as much alive as ever.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Thomas Merton and how his journey and mine are parallel though vastly different. A friends Facebook post led me to a Merton quote from “Rain and the Rhinoceros.”

The rain surrounded the whole cabin with its enormous virginal myth, a whole world of meaning, of secrecy, of silence, of rumor. Think of it: all that speech pouring down, selling nothing, judging nobody, drenching the thick mulch of dead leaves, soaking the trees, filling the gullies and crannies of the wood with water, washing out the places where men have stripped the hillside! What a thing it is to sit absolutely alone, in the forest, at night, cherished by this wonderful, unintelligible, perfectly innocent speech, the most comforting speech in the world, the talk that rain makes by itself all over the ridges, and the talk of the watercourses everywhere in the hollows!  Nobody started it, nobody is going to stop it. It will talk as long as it wants, this rain. As long as it talks I am going to listen.”–Thomas Merton

I love to listen to the rain and we had some more of it last night. It was a perfect setting for contemplation. In fact I live on our enclosed porch. Nearly every waking hour I spend here except for when I’m at work or eating dinner with my wife. I spend my time in this hermitage that’s set apart from the rest of our home.

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Without words

My heart has been without words lately. I’ve not felt up to writing about anything and I think there’s a good reason for all of that. Silence is more and more apart of my days and night even though I live in a world that will never be completely silent. The more silent I am the more I can appreciate the voices of others.  Friday was May Day, a special day of memory. In 1982, when we were early in our relationship as a couple my wife made me a May basket and gave it to me. I remember how deeply moved I was by her gesture. It was apparent to me then that this lady really loved me and it came at a time when I didn’t really love myself. I’ve reflected lately about what a pivotal moment that was in my relationship with not only Diane, but with God and life in general. Metanoias come about in life not from bolts of lightning that would scare us,  but more from changes in degrees of intensity of the light in our lives. The May basket in 1982 was one of those changes of intensity when I realized that not only did Diane love me but that I was loveable and that I needed to love myself too.

One of the scribes, when he came forward and heard them disputing and saw how well he had answered them, asked him, “Which is the first of all the commandments?” Jesus replied, “The first is this: ‘Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”–Mark 12:28-31

One of the paradoxes of life is that we can’t really love others until we love ourselves. I missed that for much of my life up until then. I miss it from time to time even now. When my relationships are suffering its often because I’m judging myself too harshly and when I’m tough on myself, I’m tough on those around me.  Diane taught me the lesson of my life on the first day of May in 1982. We celebrated that event Friday night with dinner at the lovely Glen Iris Inn overlooking the Middle Falls at nearby Letchworth State Park.

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Happy Easter

Last night I drove over to Mt. Irenaeus in the gathering twilight. Just as I got there and opened the door of my car I could see the most beautiful array of stars.  Last night was truly beautiful.  After stopping in the House of Peace and visiting with many dear friends whom I’ve met in years gone by I made my way to the chaapel area.  There were perhaps thirty of us assembled in the crisp night air around a pile of sticks that would soon be ablaze with the fire symbolic of the risen Christ.  As the liturgy began, Fr. Dan Riley, OFM invited us to look up and behold the firmament above us and to contemplate the darkness that the light of Christ pierces. Though darkness sometimes frightens me, I felt reassured and blessed last night looking up in the middle of this assembly. It’s not really the darkness that frightens me, it is the uncertainty.  Last night surrounded by the presence of so many friends and especially the familiar Franciscan friars of this friary I felt welcomed and reassured.

As the fire was lit and the liturgy began, Fr. Dan said, “This is the Passover of the Lord,” and then as now a reassuring presence gripped me.  This is a presence that transcends doctrine and theology but picks me up and reassures me that all is well with the universe. Easter is a celebration of life.  The Easter vigil at Mt. Irenaeus has been for me a reaffirmation of that celebration and as I sat and listened to the readings in the chapel with my own little candle and heard the creation story from Genesis I was reminded how important it is to hear those stories of how we came to be, not only the stories of Genesis but the stories of each of our families and how we fit. Our lives are celebration of life and to the precise extent that we don’t celebrate our lives we miss out on the resurrection. All around me this morning I see the resurrection in the robins on our lawn, the warm sun on my back, the blue sky in the distance, the awakened earth beneath my feet. The earth is alive, it is risen, we are risen. Lets go forth and celebrate that. Let’s live that.

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Radical Mercy and Forgiveness

Today a friend called to tell that another friend had died and suddenly at that. The fellow who died was a very good friend and I’ll miss him a lot. He was a good friend. We’d spent quite a bit of time together this winter. We’re both fathers and Navy veterans and both drove PT Cruisers. I hadn’t seen Pat in about a month and only the other day I thought of sending him a text message.  Earlier this winter while we were having a lengthy discussion I told him that I loved him and I did. I’m glad I was able to say that because I’ve often found it difficult to come right out and say that to another who is not in my own family.  Today, though I was filled with sadness over Pat’s passing I was glad that those words had passed between us. Life is short, shorter than we imagine sometimes.

All of this got me to thinking about the Gospel of Jesus. I read a couple of different places that Christian churches are in decline and that we’re in a post-Christian era. I’m not always sure what these writers mean when they write words like that, but for me there is a huge difference for what passes as Christianity most places and what was written in the Gospels.  Many Christian churches have become so wrapped up in politics that they are no longer prophetic, but pathetic instead.  I believe the Gospels were mainly about radical mercy and forgiveness.  I don’t even think Jesus came to found a church, he came in fulfillment of the scriptures. To me all of that is secondary to the message and that message is about forgiveness that knows no bounds and mercy beyond compare.  I came across an article written by Fr. Richard Rohr, OFM that summarizes much of what I think.

You don’t know mercy until you’ve really needed it.  As Thomas Merton once said—and I’ve quoted it often—“Mercy within mercy, within mercy.”  It’s as if we collapse into deeper nets of acceptance, deeper nets of being enclosed and finally find we’re in a net we can’t fall out of.  We are captured by grace.  Only after much mistrust and testing do we accept that we are accepted.

–Richard Rohr, OFM

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Palm Sunday

I began today at the Mountain and it was a lovely day for Palm Sunday indeed. Though we were surrounded by yesterday’s snow it was approaching the mid 40’s in the sun at 11 am as Fr. Dan Riley, OFM pictured in the stoll here invited us to sing “Hosanna.” I thought of the passage from Luke 19:39-40, “Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to Jesus, “Teacher, tell your disciples to be quiet.” He replied, “I tell you, if they were quiet, the stones would cry out!”

Today as we processed toward Holy Peace Chapel and walked over the gravel ground I thought of those words again and how even the stones were crying out. Today begins Holy Week and for me it is my favorite time of the church year. Hosanna in the highest, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, Hosanna in the highest!

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Inspiration


I took a drive this afternoon over to lovely Letchworth State Park. This photo of the Letchworth gorge at Inspiration Point attempted to capture the grandeur of the Genesee River gorge there. Standing there in the sun this afternoon I was filled with a profound sense of gratitude at having made it to another spring. Like my grandmother before me, spring is my favorite season of the year. It is a resurrection of all that is beautiful. Today I watched hawks gliding gracefully through the crisp spring air and there was a hint of new growth on the forest floor at the edge of the gorge.

As I stood there I thought of the thousands of years it took to form this lovely canyon called by many the “Grand Canyon of the East.” I thought too of the Native Americans who first enjoyed this vista, the early American settlers to the region and the thousands of us who come each year to witness once again the grandeur of this place.

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Lost faith

Another gem from the Merton Institute.

How many people are there in the world of today who have “lost their faith” along with the vain hopes and illusions of their childhood? What they called “faith” was just one among all the other illusions. They placed all their hope in a certain sense of spiritual peace, of comfort, of interior equilibrium, of self-respect. Then when they began to struggle with the real difficulties and burdens of mature life, when they became aware of their own weakness, they lost their peace, they let go of their precious self-respect, and it became impossible for them to “believe.” That is to say it became impossible for them to comfort themselves, to reassure themselves, with the images and concepts they found reassuring in childhood.
Place no hope in the feeling of assurance, of spiritual comfort. You may well have to get along without this. Place no hope in the inspirational preachers of Christian sunshine, who are able to pick you up and set you back on your feet and make you feel good for three or four days-until you fold up and collapse into despair.

Thomas Merton. New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions Press, 1961): 187.

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Blue Skies

Today was a lovely day and I spent a lot of it on the road. Driving first to Mt. Irenaeus for Mass and then later to Rochester for GardenScape and then out for dinner with Devin and Diane. Winter in Western New York is to be endured and this one has been one of the snowiest and grayest on record. It was just lovely today and I really enjoyed being alive. I haven’t felt compelled to write much here lately. I’ve been very busy learning what I can about Drupal and moving forward with our web development business.  I haven’t been doing anything really special for Lent either. I’m neither up nor down, but somewhere in the middle.

Today as I listened to the first reading at Mass I was struck by the following line.

You shall not take the name of the LORD, your God, in vain.
For the LORD will not leave unpunished
the one who takes his name in vain.

For most people that means not swearing. I think there’s more to taking the Lord’s name in vain than swearing.  I believe how we treat all that surrounds us is as important as any words we utter.  Last week I chaired a meeting where we served brownies and chocolate milk. One of my guests remarked on such treats in the middle of Lent. I think there is a lot more to Lent than giving up chocolate. I’d rather eat brownies and drink chocolate milk and try to love my neighbor than give all that up and be unkind to my neighbor.  What is more important afterall?

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Sweet Victory

I’m in Oswego, New York this morning. I’m sitting at a Macintosh in the new campus center. I came here last night to watch the Fredonia State Blue Devils compete in the SUNYAC Men’s Basketball Championship. The Blue Devils prevailed in a close contest winning in the final 8.5 seconds on a driving layup by Junior guard, Brad Coooper.  I brought an overnight bag in case they  won and I got to use it. I stayed overnight at the Scottish Inn near the college. I’ve stayed there a number of times when our son Devin was playing for the Blue Devils. I miss seeing Devin play and wish that his basketball career could have lasted longer. I never would have thought that my allegiance to Fredonia State would have continued, but it has. I’ve been a member of the Fredonia Boosters since Devin was playing and I’ve continued my membership. 

I’m really delighted for the young men of this year’s squad and happy that they can be in today’s final game which will be played at Laker Hall on campus here at SUNY Oswego. This afternoon’s opponent for the Blue Devils will be SUNY Brockport. Brockport’s got a great team and they’ve prevailed against Fredonia in two earlier meetings this year. Nonetheless, whatever happens Fredonia State Head Coach Kevin Moore can take pride in his team’s accomplishments this season.

After last night’s game I text messaged my wife, my daughter Dara who is a Fredonia State Senior and my son Devin who is former Blue Devil player. We were all excited and happy for the team and especially for  Kevin Moore.  Like all coaches Kevin has had his ups and downs and I was happy to see him so elated with last night’s victory. I’m hoping that the Blue Devils can upset Brockport today, but even if they don’t I’m glad that I’m in Oswego this morning even though it is only 7 degrees above zero.  Life is never what we expect. It is full of pleasant surprises and ironies and this morning I’m sitting in a building that didn’t exist thirty-seven years ago when I was in the middle of my second semester at SUNY Oswego, but I’m in full sight of the campus that did, the dorm I lived in and the buildings in which I attended classes. Thirty-seven years ago I had no idea that I would be transformed from an Anthropology major to a Hospital Corpsman in the U.S. Navy in less than a year. In the ensuing thirty-seven years I would complete an enlistment in the U.S. Navy, meet a lovely young lady, get married, have two children, finish college, work in public school for over thirty years and be considered by some a geek. Those items weren’t on my plate or even in my imagination in February 1972. 

I’m trying to say that you ought never put limits on what can happen. Whatever God you believe in or don’t has plans for you. There is a force in the universe that works for good even though sometimes the good is hard to see.  I don’t know what today will bring but I’m going to try to be open. Openness and flexibility are the keys. Godspeed Fredonia State!

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Vacation

Today is the first day of my winter vacation.  Last year I went to Arizona and I miss not going there, but I will travel soon to Washington, DC for DrupalCon. This morning I went to the gym with our daughter, Dara. Dara’s home this week because she’s been student teaching in the nearby Hamburg Central School system.   I worked out on the eliptical machine, which I’ve been using religiously lately. This morning I did 4.5 miles in forty minutes. I was happy with that. I compete with myself, trying to improve each day. I did the math and that’s less than nine minute miles.  After getting home and showering I had my a bowl of rice krispies with milk and honey. Today I’ve been relaxing, watching “Dances with Wolves,” and napping. What a life.

I haven’t written here as much lately, but I’ve been busy.  I researched and built a new Ubuntu Linux Terminal server on our network. It is a virtual server. That means that it resides inside one of our VMWare ESX servers.  Because it has been virtualized it can be shared more easily with others.  It is one of my ways of contributing to the open source community. The teachers and students who came to rely on our older Linux terminal server and who waited patiently while this one was built and configured are very happy.  I’ve also been learning how to use and deploy Drupal.  My life has always been about reading and learning. It’s been my passion and it continues to consume me.

Yesterday a friend wrote a very nice recommendation. I had asked him to recommend me on LinkedIn and I was humbled by what he wrote.  It is nice to have friends who think highly of you.  Here is part of what my friend Frank Pirrone wrote.

Don is one of those creatures who by temperament or by choice inhabits the cutting-edge of whatever he finds himself working on or engaged by. He has done tremendous work implementing novel technology solutions for the Franklinville school district as well as the surrounding community.

There is a chance I might retire from the school district. I don’t have to, but I’m eligible.  I hope that those of you who read what I write will pray for God’s will to be done. I will try to listen to his will. I’m trying to determine what that is in all of this.   Next month I will have worked at school district for thirty years.  Add to that a couple of years of military service and some other public service and I will have nearly thirty-five years of service. I suppose that is enough,  but I don’t want to sit around collecting dust. Life is to be lived.