The Fruit of Now [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

“But the Tzutujil, with no verb “to be,” spoke about their temple as a non-rigid, fluid thing to be added to and fed with offerings. These offerings kept the world alive, like the fertilizing and watering of a tree, an ancient tree that continually bears the fruit of “now”. “ ~ Martin Prechtel, Long Life Honey in the Heart

The fruit of now.

Sometimes I try to imagine living in a culture that believes their actions matter not only to the health of the world, but the very existence of the world. All the world a sanctuary. What must it feel like to live with the understanding that what we do and how we behave, what we honor and what we bring to the sanctuary more than sustains it? It recreates it. No action is insignificant. To be the collective stewards of an ancient relationship rather than pursuers of an individual abstract heaven. The fruit of now.

Day one of a new year. Yesterday I wrote about my resolution, to be careful what I pretend to be.

Yesterday Kerri wrote about being a source of light. A luminaria. Illumination. “A lamp kept burning before the sacrament.” To be a source of light in a dark time.

This morning I awoke thinking about kintsugi: the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with urushi lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. It was mentioned in the Hallmark movie we watched on Sunday night. A cherished angel, broken and repaired. Kintsugi is meant to take what is broken and make it more beautiful by highlighting rather than hiding the cracks.

Kintsugi is a nice compliment to my resolution of being careful about what I pretend to be. It is a worthy intention, rather than hide my broken bits, I might spend this year gluing them back together in such a way that I highlight rather than conceal them. To be an honestly messy human is to be a source of light in a dark time. In that way, might I become more beautiful?

Or, perhaps the becoming-more-beautiful never stops. Kintsugi is not an achievement, an end result. It is an ongoing process. I can imagine, as one of the many stewards of the ancient relationship, responsible for the health of the sanctuary, the ancient tree, becoming more beautiful is an intention, a daily practice. And, knowing that what I-and-we-do-and-say matters to the health of the whole, in this ritual passage into the new year, I-and-we might enjoy the fruit of now, taking this step across the threshold into the new year as if what we do matters to the health of the world, shining as a source of light in a dark time.

read Kerri’s blog about A Luminaria

likesharesupportsubscribecommentshinetendwaterfeedthesoul…thankyou.

What We Pretend To Be [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

“A Republic is an empire of laws, not men.” ~ John Adams

On the eve of the new year it is customary to make resolutions and, borrowing from the great Kurt Vonnegut, I have a suggestion for both a national and personal resolution: “We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be.”

This year we must resolve to be careful what we pretend to be.

I grew up hearing that we are a nation of laws and that no one – no one – was above the law. That founding principle, long held, understood by all, honored by all, was applied to all. Even presidents. It is a principle at the epicenter of what defined us. It was what we once pretended to be. Recently, the Supreme Court ruled that we must pretend to be something else, the law of the nation cannot – or will not – touch everyone. In these past months we’ve been witness to the fall of the law. We are now pretending to be an empire of lawless men.

The 14th Amendment of our Constitution disqualifies former government officials from holding office if they took an oath to support the Constitution but then betrayed it by engaging in an insurrection. It is written into our Constitution, our highest document of law. Where-oh-where are the keepers of the law? What now are they – those lawmakers in both houses of Congress, sworn to uphold the Constitution – pretending to be? They must be pretending that they swore an oath, nothing more. Law-less men and women.

I can – and have – read The Constitution. It is easy to find, easy to read. The 14th Amendment is not ambiguous.

Where-oh-where are those conservative members of the Supreme Court who pretend to be literalists, interpreters and champions of the letter-of-the-law as written in the Constitution? They, too, swore an oath. They must be pretending to be blind. What letter of the law are they literally pretending not to see?

They certainly want us to join them in pretending not to see.

I can see. I know an insurrection when I see it. I know who incited it. I cannot pretend otherwise. Why are we pretending not to see it?

My resolution: to be very careful what I pretend to be. I hope you will join me in my resolution.

read Kerri’s blogpost on THE NEW YEAR

likesharesupportcommentsubscriberesearchreadchallengequestion…thankyou.

Recognize The Adventure

663. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

The calendar tells me that this is the first day. And isn’t that always true. I have a friend that writes me everyday to report on her adventure of the day. This is a good day to start a good practice: decide and live each day as if it was the first day (because it is) and aim to have an adventure on every first day.

A hint: It will help if you do not resolve to do this because a resolution assumes that it has never previously been true; it assumes a change, something different that you must do. That misses the point entirely. All you need do is open your eyes, release the belief that your life is ordinary, and recognize the adventure. Instead of a New Year’s resolution allow yourself to have a New Year’s recognition.

No, Right!

662. Join me in inspiring truly powerful people. Each day I will add a new thought, story or idea to support your quest and mine.

The man in front of me in line calls me “Dude!” and affirms my statements by saying, “No, right!” He speaks in exclamation points and I like him a lot. He’s a free spirit although, like me, his hair is going grey and he’s traveled more than a few miles. He asked me if I make resolutions this time of year. I liked the question because it includes the possibility that I might make resolutions at other times of the year. I told him I make resolutions everyday right before I don’t keep them and he laughed and said, “No, right!”

There is a moment I look forward to when flying out of Seattle. It is the moment that the plane lifts through the clouds and punches into a clear blue sky; it is a cusp moment and I see that the clouds are local and temporary; the broad blue expanse is universal, ever present. Occasionally the plane rises above the clouds at the moment the sun rises. The moment before was grey and bleak and in an instant it is vibrant orange, turquoise, cold and clear shades of blue. Those moments are rich in paradox: they evoke quiet and excitement, a thrill that washes me in peace

I am more capable than ever before of living with my head above the clouds, seeing the universal and standing in awe of the color even when my eyes can’t see it. I know it is there if I open myself and breathe it in. “Dude! What are you thinking?” my line mate asked. “I think I’m going to fly above the clouds this year,” I replied. He wrinkled his brow at my odd resolution before nodding his head and saying, “No, right!