Bus Headlines

“Reports of trouble on buses rise”
“Rider-on-rider “assaults” up 30% in a Year”
“Stats define incidents broadly, but rudeness noted”

These were the headlines of The Seattle Times Local News section on Saturday. Having missed my weekly bus rides for about a month now, I was naturally drawn to this piece. Ironically, the continuation page of the article landed right next to the “Faith and Values” section of the paper. Hmmm. Coincidence?

I began to ponder these topics together. What if we responded to rudeness with kindness? What if we reported stories of good deeds rather than angry words? What if we wondered what might be happening personally to people rather than blaming the metro system? What if we offered each other a cup of kindness rather than a shove and push? If we offered our seat rather than turned away in indifference? If we looked with compassion rather than judgment?

What if we did something different? Paid our love forward? “Unplugged” our i-pods and cell phones? Considered people rather than systems? What if we stayed in our seat and let the sleeping man rest? If we offered comfort rather than contempt?

Do you think we could change the headlines?

“Compassion can never coexist with judgment because judgment creates the distance, the distinction, which prevents us from really being with the other.”
--Henri Nouwen

Remnants of Childhood

Remnants of childhood. Mudpies. Dandelion & purple flower soup. Feather beds. Legos abandoned in the yard. Cows on the farm. A hint of manure. Generations of childhood memories woven together. Playing in the dirt. Connecting to the earth. A child’s sandbox. Digging and building. The simplicity of life.

"Whoever inquires about our childhood wants to know something about our soul." --Erika Burkhart

Compost

Yesterday I worked hard. I tended my garden, both literally and figuratively. I inhaled the clean, spring Seattle air mixed with the smell of fresh mulch that held just a hint of manure. A pile of dark earth was delivered to my home. Who knew that a mound of dirt could hold so many opportunities for discovery, such as tiny rocks and other things that somehow survived the composting process?

Is life on earth simply a composting process? Before yesterday I thought of the composting process as only a breaking down or decaying procedure, but interestingly enough the root word ‘compositum’ actually means ‘something put together’. So, I ask the question again, is life simply a composting process?

I wonder, will we allow ourselves to be broken down until only our true self is left, like the pebbles that arrived in my heap of compost? Will we stay in the process until there is no more space for barriers and defenses? Until what you see is what you get? A life as pure as a pebble.

We are called to be true to our nature. A rock is a rock. A bird is a bird. Water is water. People are people. We cannot be anything else. Yet maybe we are most like water as we take on the colors and reflections of the world around us. But when we try to reflect what is not our nature, there is disharmony and confusion. If water reflects a flame, it does not become fire. It is still water. We, too, can reflect many things, but to be at peace—to be whole and true to ourselves and to God—we need only be who we naturally and truly are at our very core.

Some of us resemble rocks and some are free as birds, others are beautiful flowers blossoming anew each day. And, me? Well, I am simply a child playing in this magnificent garden.

Broken for You

Broken for you. These are the words that I awoke with this morning. Many images running through my head. Christ. Mosaic tiles. My own aching bones (from too much gardening.) Shattered families. Cracks and light. Hearts breaking open so that others may fall in. How will we approach the cracks and find the light?

The images then turning to two butterflies dancing in yesterday’s sunlight. White, perfect butterflies greeted me throughout the day. Actually they seemed quite oblivious of me yet they put on quite the show. Sometimes solo, sometimes in a pair, happy and gleeful, floating in the sunlight.

Broken. Broken wings. Broken soil. Broken ground. Broken body. Broken for you. Christ’s body broken for me. Communion. Christ’s beautiful, amazing sacrifice. Broken for me. The communion cup. The bread of life. How will we feed each other? Broken for you.

How are we broken again and again on behalf of each other? How can our own brokenness heal one another? Broken for you. The words ring in my head. Mother Teresa. Gabrielle. Jennifer. People I have never met. Broken for me. How will we fight on behalf of each other? One person at a time. One life at a time. With these thoughts, I begin my day.

Book Meme

Wow! Two Memes in One Day...

How many books do you own?
Enough to use as lamp tables, nightstands and shelf fillers. 200-300 maybe? I'd rather read them than count them.

Last book I read:
"The Namesake" by Jhumpa Lahiri--It is a great illumination on the immigrant experience and the relationship between generations. This book has been selected as part of Seattle Reads.

Five Books That Mean a Lot to Me (no particular order and representing a variety of reasons):

Go Dog Go by P.D. Eastman

The Bible

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

Artist's Way by Julia Cameron

Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown

Now tag five other blogs:

I promise not to do "tags" more than once a day/week/month??? However, please feel free to join in and leave your readings either in my comments or on your blog. I'd love to know what you are reading!