Living the Questions

Today started with a pancake breakfast.  The kids were great in helping me set it up and did almost all the work.  We had let the place degrade in cleaniness so we mopped and cleaned the kitchen and then ... when they went outside to trim bushes ... I mopped the Hall ... twice.  Nancy yes, even I needed to clean it.

Then, we had time to clean out the refrigerator, using up all the leftovers of the week and feasting again on the good food. 

Then a friend came in and lead the group in drumming... teaching us that in the community of drummers it is more important to listen to the lead voice than to just let the drums talk unchecked.  Who ever is the declared voice ... the others seek to listen to ... and then build around.  Therefore it is important to wactch and listen to the leaders beat, growing louder as they get louder, quieting as they quiet... and stopping when they have chosen to be done.  Leading is also an art.  If you are the desided lead voice in the group you have to remain in a focused rhythmn, clear and not worry about yourself ... but allow others to build and bring color to the sound around you.  There were times we played wonderfully together and times of discordant noise.  But all in all very inspiring.

 It is so wonderful to be with these fine young people and advisors on trips such as this.  We are learing about each other... who is the hard worker... who is the reflector... who never shuts up ... and who is the infrequent author of sound.  We are not always harmonious and often have to wrestle through contervalant thoughts and feelings, recognizing that being open ... means we have to listen to more than our own hearts... respecting the truth offered from the other neighbors and family memebers that surround our lives.  It has often lead us deeper into who we are and truly whose we are. 

 See ya'll tomorrow, or Saturday or Sunday or someday.  Ted

Last night I was so tired that I asked for no responsibilites past lights out.  I put my Ipod on my arm and head set in my ears and woke up hours later to James Taylor singing, "Sweet Baby James."   I went back to sleep and woke up to Willie Nelson.  Imagine my dreams.    
 
We were served Gina's Scrambled Eggs and Shane's toast ... Um.m.m.m.  Then pack my lunch and off to the van.  I drove the 12 passenger van following Max ... Mistake.  Anyway eventually we got to the City of Refuge.  Wow...makes me feel pretty white bread.   
 
Lunch was mexican?  Yeah I know.  One of the kids wanted Mexican and it was good.  Then shower at YMCA. ... of course.  Now out to hand out survival sex packets.  We will be shadowing a Trained City of Refuge staff person.  We just finished a street talk and had an extended Q&A time ... Now stepping into the streets.  Ted

From Work Camp in CA: The days are full of neighbors. For days we have been looking for the unexpected neighbor to learn about our empathy, prejudices, love and blindspots.

The first night we surprised ourselves talking about homeless, poverty, people feeling lost and alone...Then one voicesaid, "That is like my neighborhood."All of a sudden, the neighbors looked familiar.

 

Who is my neighbor?

Who is the Samaritan?

Who is the Levite?

Who is the priest?

 What am I to do and be?..The one to show mercy...The many who live mercy?..The unexpected neighbor type? ...Showing courageous acts of kindness?

 

 

 

 

19 youth and adults: blessed and commissioned in worship, set out for Oakland, CA and on to Hayward, CA for a week of mission work.  They made it through security, got there safely, were greeted warmly by Eden UCC with a home cooked meal. They settled in to their evening program and got ready for the next day's work....Can't wait to hear more...

            Nancy drove us out onto the Ferry departing Bridgeport, Connecticut on our way to Port Jefferson, New York.  As she drove onto the Ferry we encountered the sound of car and truck engines shutting down, water lapping on the side of the ferry, ship engines began rumbling, as the clicking of my computer keys continued.  We got out of our rental Chevy Cobalt, walked up the stairway to pay for our ticket … then crossing to the front of the Ferry to feel and hear the salt wind … possibly created by the Ferry’s own screws powering us through the small waves and swells of the Long Island Sound. 

             Nancy and I began to talk about the General Synod meeting in Hartford , the numerous vacation conversations we had with friends and our excitement over dear friends yet to see.  As we talked my mind was distracted by a couple having a loud conversation, causing me to wonder … How much do we really hear of what we say to one another … How much do we hear of what is being said … Do we actually hear what the other intends … what do we actually filter out … what is ignored … unconsciously or consciously … How much does it change what is being said?  The question arose how often am I so intent on making my points … that I miss the connection, relationship, the intent for our time together … that I miss the purpose of re-creation … vacation … communication … The sound of “Stop!” … “Can’t you understand?” … “What do you mean?” “Do you actually mean that?”  “What do you mean by love?”

            I apologized to Nancy as I checked back in … Sitting next to me she had stopped talking, looking out at the approaching shore ahead … The Ferry’s sound system began broadcasting something … moments lost … can we ever get them back … connection, love, relationship?

           One ship was leaving Port Jeff as we were arriving … a normal course creating space for one another.  Friends greet us and life goes on … Tomorrow will be another day … if we live in a linear/time space continuum.  Good Night Jim Bob.

Life has been good to us and at 80 years time is coming when good byes are in order ... Until we again say hello. 

            How many times did Aunt Bonny open her home and heart to me and my sisters, taking care of us, gifting us with laughter, love and life.  She was always ready to take us to the Squirrel Club, go to the Zoo, and listen to our stories, sharing her own.

            When it came to courage, independence, and big visions she taught us by her example.  She had the courage to step out of the family circle and go off school … in the city.  She was a trend setter that did not sacrifice her family relationships to grow.  She took us with her.  She wrote letters and made phone calls to let us know she was ok and set trends for young women of intelligence and beauty to follow.  She was tough, pretty and smart … A woman in a man’s world.

            She gave my sisters (Irene and Shirley) and I our first bicycles.  They were the gift of independence for us, a gift beyond compare.  Her graciousness, opened the world to us. Through those bikes we were able to venture out into the wider world of sodas and candy bars, baseball games and the school play ground.

            Almost every weekend she and Howard came up to stay, while Howard played golf, she played with us and talked with Mom…

            Over these last years, when she would hear my voice … that winsome smile would cross her face and she would pucker waiting for my kiss … and whispered, “I love you…always.” 

            Family, generosity of spirit, pushing the edges, laughter, kisses, and I love you… These are my memories of Bonny.  I have loved and will miss her … until again we meet in the now that is eternal.  Good bye my sweet.