Two Years On.

Reborn and shivering
Spat out on new terrain
Unsure unconvincing
This faint and shaky hour

Day one day one start over again
Step one step one
I’m barely making sense for now
I’m faking it ’til I’m pseudo making it
From scratch begin again but this time I as i
And not as we

Gun shy and quivering
Timid without a hand
Feign brave with steel intent
little and hardly here

It’s been two years since my last Eastercamp. Gosh, that went quickly. Didn’t feel like it at Year One, but at Year Two it seems like a flash in the pan. By Year Three, there’ll be barely a trace left… I won’t recognize the faces or the names. That’s how quickly it can all turnaround. 

Year One, I mostly just stayed home, cried, cooked and drank a little. Or a lot. But it was mostly red wine and I had a very communion-y mindset about it. It was a very sad and angry communion, so it was especially important. 


Year Two.. I mostly just stayed home but participated in some Easter celebrations, even some leading of the procession in my local community. Helped with the re-telling of the story to some 10 – 13 year olds. Told a story about being less of a priest and more of a person, singing the songs of ascent up to the Temple steps. 


I still miss the anticipation of telling the story. I miss the community of friends. My inner self trembles with anxiety that I won’t be that good again, that others will be better. Until I realize that is what I want, despite myself. I still want what has come after me to be better than I was. Doesn’t make me feel very righteous though. And maybe that’s better, the nothingness and then the desire. 



Oh, Cos You Know Me So Well..

There are lots of things going on at the moment .. and lots of things I’d love to write about it, but the timing isn’t quite right and the barometer is unsettled. I’m looking forward to time passing enough to be able to write about these things with the benefit of hindsight and discovery.

However, I can write a few, momentary reflections on some things seen and heard lately…that may or may not speak to things current, cos you know me so well.

1. Dave Matthews Band is still amazing live. And there is no more powerful witness in the world to any cause or movement, than a group of friends that stand together to honour one of their own. There are seasons of turmoil, grief and loss – when someone like LeRoi is suddenly gone… and there is a story left behind to be told by those who know him so well, that honours the music, the very being and core of his life, to love on the family of which we are all part, continuing on in the cause we are all living and believing in.

2. It’s someone else’s quote but it’s true “that which has the power to create an over or under reaction in us, usually has control over us, and will force that reaction from us”. If you know me so well, you know that I believe some of the essence of life is learning what to hold on to, what to let go of. There are some things though, that still hold on to me.. by their persistent ability to provoke an unwelcome response in me, because I’m still waiting for the freedom that truth brings. I realised that in some instances, I have laid down my right to write those truths, telling those stories.. because I fear the response. But the response in my spirit to not telling these things.. is much too much.

3. The adventurer in me is not dead, not the creative spark buried under sadness for a time. Cos you know me so well, I can speak to you of high desert plains, mountains, rocks, dry heat and long concrete & asphalt paths carved out just so that I can stand in the middle of nothingness. Stand there and realise how much I loved the unbeaten path, the unfolding day, the clarity of time and space. I am adventure-bound, ready for the wilderness of life again. The spark in me is rising up again, beating and warm within me.

4. Justice and compassion belong together. Cos you know me so well, you probably know that tears come more often now, more easily. The injustice of elderly couples treated with disdain, kids climbing out of the gutters towards the future, that which is lost…. So may my sense of justice not lead me towards rage, and may my sense of compassion still operate with discernment to the way forward.

Forgive Thy Brother.

Forgive Thy Brother.

Forgive Thy Brother – by Scott Erickson of The Transpire Project

tonight with the moon full and low in the sky, blue
finally to write about you, to talk about you, with love
the way i used to, with hope and promise and joy
finally i am sick of ache, weighted arrows in my shoulder
harnessing my force, good or bad, from reaching you
forced I am, into stepping close enough again
fallen into embrace, to rest the weight of it upon you
done.                        … with just space enough
for continuing despite what we have … chosen to forget
i’m still learning what love is, learning who i am…
…. the moon demands all of my attention to this task, to love you
brother.

Strictly Personal.
I stumbled upon this painting by Scott and was stopped in my tracks. Here was an image that seemed to capture the wrestle in my mind for the last few months.

Getting to America, to this place, these people – this movement, was meant to be a definitive stepping stone. A brilliant release from a scarred and troubling chapter in my life – where things ceased to be true as I had known them to be. It was a scar of my own doing, and yet not. I doubly owned it with the other partakers, yet carried it so heavily. Struggling not to be a victim, to forgive, to move on.

But it takes time, and this place is like a sharp lens, a focusing ring pulled tightly towards my body.

My desire to genuinely forgive and be a better person as result of my mistakes, my justification and my grief is like a taste in my mouth. Yet I doubt my ability to do it.

But maybe the desire to forgive, to carry on, to grow beyond my borders is enough. Maybe that’s all there is. Maybe this kind of confession and forgiveness offers nothing else but… desire. Actually achieving some palpable, tangible feeling would be too noble, too gracious for someone as incomplete as what I am.

That being said, I am moving closer towards what I want to think and feel in regards to forgiving, than I used to be. Good news, huh?

did you ever love me?
ever really love me?
for i loved you

you with all your older, wiser, always knowing better
condemning all my youthful, ideal hopes
convincing me that you were right
i subjugated all my life… for i loved you, i really loved you.

i thought that we could grow together, surely somewhere
there would be some moment where you saw me
you really saw me and believed
these things i knew and know are right… for I loved you, i really loved you.

i hoped we would be friends by now, you would’ve softened sooner
perhaps have learnt some grace for all your years
but i know that things are done forever
we can never be repaired.. although i loved you..

did you ever love me?
ever really love me?
oh, i loved you.

if one day you came to me contritely, not even pride
would hold me back I would embrace you – for I loved you –
and i have always acknowledged I was young and thereby foolhardy enough
to have something to learn but also teach you
i could have taught you so much – for i loved you –
enough to have the patience it took for all those years
to love you and to teach you
i wonder
do you remember anything I taught you

did you ever love me?
ever really love me?
oh, i loved you.
i loved you.
will you love me again, one day?

Conversations At Intersections.

Conflict & Hope

Another Excerpt from Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope by Joan Chittister

“A Native American tale tells of the elder who was talking to a disciple about tragedy. The elder said, “I feel as if I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is the vengeful, angry, violent one. The other wolf is the loving, compassionate one.” The disciple asked, “But which wolf will win the fight in your heart?” And the holy one answered, “It depends on which one I feed.”

“The spiritual task of life is to feed the hope that comes out of despair. Hope is not something to be found outside of us. It lies in the spiritual life we cultivate within. The whole purpose of wrestling with God is to be transformed into the self we were meant to become, to step out of the confines of our false securities and allow our creating God to go on creating. In us.”