trust
to trust
to trust is
to trust is to
to trust is to thrust
yourself into the dark
yourself into flame
yourself into hope
to hope for cool
hope for heal
and truth
like rain
clean

sand-swept earth was still,
was the shore, the field, the mountains
never knowing it was its own quaking
that brought forth the drowning
and the great black wave washed over

books don’t close anymore
pages of yellow velum simply turn
bringing more of the story
or none of  it

it is India ink illumination
black shadows on old life
layer upon layer of what was
coming back like a mobius
folding in upon itself

for what?
for strength?

one fold hammered upon another
which is never so bad
except for the ringing in the ears

The Ranch had been in the business of breaking horses for a long time…as long as anyone could remember really. There were good times and there were bad times and there were times in between and the days came and went but one thing remained the same – the breaking of horses.

It was no easy thing to break a horse, each one required a subtly different approach depending upon temperament and upbringing. Often times the easiest to break were not the ones you would expect. With so much time invested in the business there were literally generations of horses that had gone through the gates and into the corral. One would expect that those horses that were third or fourth generation ranch animals would have an easier time in the ring and that the odd wild horse that was brought in would put up more of a fuss…but that was not usually the case.

Sometimes it felt as if the ranch horses were more stubborn and set in their ways, as if to say the the lead ranch hand “I’ve been here longer than you and will outlast you – I do things my way”. On the other hand the wild horses had a greater sense of pragmatism it seemed. They had a deeper sense of what it meant to sacrifice for the herd and move as a group rather than as a wildling, fierce but alone and ultimately weaker for all that. The worst of them all were the older ones that had become set in their ways and existed solely for their own ends because no one had loved them enough to lead them…these horses were like as to die or kill you before submitting to being led.

Every ranch had its own way of doing things, its own way of breaking a horse. Some had even come to a place where the idea of breaking seemed archaic and old fashioned and that the way to tame them was through long, often tedious methods of bonding – and this generally was fine until a moment of critical decision had to be made; in such moments both rider and horse would freeze or bolt in their own independent directions. Still others had given up on breaking all together and sold their horses wild to unseasoned buyers who believed the aggression and independence were strengths.

For this ranch hand however there was only one way to meet the ranch objective of training up a horse that would catch the vision of its master and work hard to achieve it – one on one, in the coral.

Every horse came into the coral unbroken, wild and independent. They had a sense of direction but it was their own and completely out of tune with that of the ranch hand. A successful breaking depended on only two factors – the horse and the hand. Each horse had a unique personality with unique strengths and weaknesses.Each horse was destined for a different role – some were to be work horses pulling plows and wagons and such, others were to be ridden, still others a little of both. The hand had to be mature and experienced enough to know each horse and guide it to the ultimate goal of horse and rider becoming one team working toward the same objective – each utilizing their own unique strengths in harmony with one another – this could not happen with a wild horse or a hand that was unwilling to take the reigns and do what was necessary.

Put an unseasoned hand on a wild horse and it wouldn’t be long before the hand was upended and laying stunned and flat on the ground while the horse continued on its way. Other hands could be cruel and used unnecessary force which may break the horse but also its spirit too and in this sense such a hand was a failure. One thing was true though – a hand had to be decisive and often had to require the horse to do something it did not want to – the success or failure here depended on how much the hand was trusted and how patiently the hand reinforced the role of rider and horse.

No, a good hand knew that from the moment the horse entered the coral until it left it needed to be led…that it was part of a grander objective that involved the vision and guidance of the hand. A seasoned hand loved every horse genuinely and knew when to press the spurs and just how hard to do so. A good hand knew that the horse was not a slave but also not a master and would work to transform the horse and ultimately the herd into a unit that would all work together with rider toward a common cause.

It was not easy. The hand knew that no horse liked to be broken, just as no ranch hand liked to be thrown. The hand knew that these basic instincts often led other hands and horses to agree to disagree creating horses that went where they pleased – often to the peril of their rider and to the horse as well.

No – sometimes the hand had to be firm, especially early in the breaking. Over time the horse would come to trust the hand and allow itself to be bent to the hand’s will for the benefit of each and ultimately the ranch. In this fashion they would come to common cause. Any other way was a waste of time.

The hand knew that there was a natural pecking order in a wild herd. That the stallion led through deciveness and with the best interest of the herd in mind. A herd without a stallion would fall apart. There was no such thing as a herd with a weak or indecisive stallion and in the same way the hand knew there should be no such thing as a weak rider or a weak hand attempting to break a horse. It would never work.

As long as these principles guided the hand, the ranch would continue to do as it had done. Success depended solely on these things.

I admire fire walker
stepping stealthy
hot cross coals
not a wince
not a wink
but brazen foot falls
tread down the tongues
as of to say –

“I am master here
in this present place
I feel no bite, no tear
no ashes or disgrace”

Wow stress levels are radically high right now. I tell myself that it is a state of mind but sometimes that doesn’t help. I am not fond of writing about my own struggles (heck I don’t even like talking about them) but blogging has been so therapeutic I have to put words to screen.

Even now as I write I feel the load lifting a little bit.

For me stress seems to be linked to a sense of personal value. I don’t know if that makes sense and I am not sure if I can explain it but there it is. I’m one of those guys who has always struggled with a sense of value and so I push very hard in the other direction in terms of achievement. I do it in my job, I did it with my education and these two things have been very good at affirming me.

Still I know that my ultimate value is found in God. I know this. I sense it deep within myself. I am loved. I am priceless.

But –

I so often forget.

The world can be so heavy sometimes and often I feel that the weight I carry is the weight of myself. I suppose this is a good analogy because it is physically impossible to carry oneself. Yet I try and try and try to do it but I can’t and it has nothing to do with the weight (insert joke here) and everything to do with the way the universe was created.

Culture doesn’t help much (and I am, admittedly a big fan of culture). It tells me that as a man (a real capital M Man) that I must be a good provider, that I am a failure if I need help. At least that’s what I hear and I know I have my own filters.

My tendency in the midst of worry and stress is to cocoon. To hide within myself and to avoid others if I can. I don’t like the idea of becoming a burden; in fact I think I hate that idea more than anything else. I realize that this is ultimately selfish. I hate being a burden because it makes me feel bad and somewhat useless…this is selfish. But I am a selfish being. We all are to some degree.

So I am writing as a way of fighting the feelings. I am blogging because I am guessing I am not the only one who has ever felt this way. It makes me feel naked and exposed but it feels like the right thing to do…and even in this I am selfish because this is all designed for my good…this post. To make me feel better. Maybe it is simply part of our substance.

I feel better.

Like a great inhale after a long dive into the deeper water.

Thanks for listening. You are awesome. 🙂

It occurred to me that people seem to have themes. The rise of social networking has made these personal themes a lot more obvious in recent years as we all have more and more access into other people’s lives (for good or ill). Some themes include:

– I Hate Everyone

– Everyone Hates Me

– I LOVE Everyone

– Everyone LOVES me

– I have the worst life in the world

– I have the best life in the world

– The Gossip (a.k.a. the human incarnation of Satan)

– The Complainer

– The “Ihavetoposteverythingieverdoevenmypoops” people

– Fitness nuts a.k.a. “I’m healthier than you”

– Nerds

– EMOs

– The Activist (insert cause here)

– The DJ (constant posts of videos and music)

– The Cutesy (making our world so sweet we are all in danger of diabetes)

…and certainly countless others.

Anyhow – you get the idea. So as I pondered this I began to wonder – what is my theme? I write enough that I must have one but I am not impartial here so I have no idea what it might be. I like to keep things varied but one cannot avoid revealing tendencies after a while.

So I am throwing this question out there for you to answer for me – what is my theme? Do I have one or several? I am curious – let me know.

So I was reading CTV news website this morning and came across the increasingly tragic story of the Costa Concordia luxury cruise liner and the death of 11 people (so far) after it inexplicably ended up 3 nautical miles off course and struck a rock off the coast of Italy. There are still 24 people reported missing and little hope left of finding them alive.

The story I read this morning relates an exchange between an Italian coast guard captain Gregorio de Falco and the captain of the cruise ship, who had already abandoned his ship and was on a life boat. Below is the transcript of the conversation and it is absolutely riveting:

Capt. Gregorio De Falco: This is De Falco speaking from Livorno. Am I speaking with the commander?

Capt. Francesco Schettino: Yes. Good evening, Cmdr. De Falco.

De Falco: Please tell me your name.

Schettino: I’m Cmdr. Schettino, commander.

De Falco: Schettino? Listen, Schettino. There are people trapped on board. Now you go with your boat under the prow on the starboard side. There is a pilot ladder. You will climb that ladder and go on board. You go on board and then you will tell me how many people there are. Is that clear? I’m recording this conversation, Cmdr. Schettino…

Schettino: Commander, let me tell you one thing…

De Falco: Speak up! Put your hand in front of the microphone and speak more loudly, is that clear?

Schettino: In this moment, the boat is tipping…

De Falco: I understand that. Listen, there are people that are coming down the pilot ladder of the prow. You go up that pilot ladder, get on that ship and tell me how many people are still on board. And what they need. Is that clear? You need to tell me if there are children, women or people in need of assistance. And tell me the exact number of each of these categories. Is that clear? Listen, Schettino, you saved yourself from the sea, but I am going to make you pay for this. Go on board, [expletive]!

Schettino: Commander, please…

De Falco: No, please. You now get up and go on board. They are telling me that on board there are still…

Schettino: I am here with the rescue boats, I am here, I am not going anywhere, I am here…

De Falco: What are you doing, commander?

Schettino: I am here to coordinate the rescue…

De Falco: What are you coordinating there? Go on board! Coordinate the rescue from aboard the ship. Are you refusing?

Schettino: No, I am not refusing.

De Falco: “Are you refusing to go aboard, commander? Can you tell me the reason why you are not going?

Schettino: I am not going because the other lifeboat is stopped.

De Falco: You go aboard. It is an order. Don’t make any more excuses. You have declared “abandon ship.” Now I am in charge. You go on board! Is that clear? Do you hear me? Go, and call me when you are aboard. My air rescue crew is there.

Schettino: Where are your rescuers?

De Falco: My air rescue is on the prow. Go. There are already bodies, Schettino.

Schettino: How many bodies are there?

De Falco: I don’t know. I have heard of one. You are the one who has to tell me how many there are. Christ.

Schettino: But do you realize it is dark and here we can’t see anything…

De Falco: And so what? You want go home, Schettino? It is dark and you want to go home? Get on that prow of the boat using the pilot ladder and tell me what can be done, how many people there are and what their needs are. Now!

Schettino: …I am with my second in command.

De Falco: So both of you go up then … You and your second go on board now. Is that clear?

Schettino: Commander, I want to go on board, but it is simply that the other boat here … there are other rescuers. It has stopped and is waiting…

De Falco: It has been an hour that you have been telling me the same thing. Now, go on board. Go on board! And then tell me immediately how many people there are there.

Schettino: OK, commander

De Falco: Go, immediately!

This scene is practically ripped from a movie. You can almost see the outraged coast guard captain getting more and more frustrated with the fearful and evasive Schettino.

It makes me wonder if we really understand our roles and responsibilities and how much they will demand of us in the darkest of times.

Pray for the missing. Pray for the families and friends of the dead. Pray for the captain and crew.

I was looking out my window this morning and noticed the brilliant blue sky and sunshine and I became illogically, undeniably happy. Euphoric even.

In the midst of this I began to think about what a fickle thing our brains can be that the mere increase of sunshine can drive one to a place of pleasure while the reverse holds true as well.

The mind is an interior and hidden place. No amount of scientific or psychological inquiry will ever unlock its mysteries and this is both satisfying and frightening at the same time. Satisfying because we all need one place to feel secure in; frightening because for those dealing with mental illness we will never really understand what it is like.

I believe we all have varying degrees of mental illness from the equivalent of the common cold to the interior version of lethal cancer. I feel fairly well-balanced most of the time but the degree to which unknown and external factors impact my state of mind has me in prayer for those who struggle with deeper pains than mine.

To not be in control of one’s own self; one’s deepest interior safe place…it must be a terrible thing. Not only that but to be made in most instances to feel as though a mental illness is somehow less than a physical one must be incredibly frustrating. A cut we can see. We can stitch it up, cover it in a band-aid, prescribe anti-biotics and move on comfortable in the near certainty that healing will come.

Mental illness on the other hand is still often seen as “only in your head” which of course, ironically, it is but what people mean when they say or feel that is “stop being dramatic and simply think right”.

This kind of unsympathetic response is often no different than telling an amputee to “stop stumbling along on crutches and have the moral fortitude to grow a new leg for heaven’s sake”. When we tell a person struggling with anything from depression to schizophrenia to simply get over it we are, in fact, telling them to “simply change your brain chemistry and everything will be fine sheesh”.

The problem of the unsympathetic response lies firmly in the fact that we humans do not trust one-another and we do not trust what we cannot see. We approach each other with suspicion and imagine ulterior motives. The ridiculous adage of “you have to earn trust” has done a great deal of harm here for it is a defensive posture that assumes the worst in people until they prove you wrong.

Perhaps if we were to simply trust people first; believe them when they say they cannot overcome a depression or the like…maybe that is the first step toward helping. Sure we will be burned from time to time but that is what happens when one lives sacrificially for and in the community. Hopefully in those instances others, who we have trusted, will come alongside us and lift us up again.

I am back to working my way through Pope Benedict XVI’s excellent Jesus of Nazareth Part Two:Holy Week from the Entrance in Jerusalem to the Resurrection and have found some excellent quotes I thought I would blog. I expect there shall be more.

“So two key locations are named for the life of the infant Church: for preaching and prayer they meet in the Temple, which they still regard and accept as the house of God’s word and the house of prayer; on the other hand, the breaking of bread – the new “cultic” centre of the lives of the faithful – is celebrated in their houses as places of assembly and communion in the name of the risen Lord.”

Here he quotes St. Gregory Nazianzen, Oration 31, On the Holy Spirit:

“A departure from time-honored, customary ways is, after all, not easy. Am I making my point? The first change cut away idols but allowed sacrifices to remain; the second stripped away sacrifices but did not forbid circumcision. Then, when men had been reconciled to the withdrawal, they agreed to let go what had been left them as a concession.”

TRANSLATION: God works redemptively and progressively within human culture and historical context slowly stripping away old human ways and replacing them with God’s. For example – scripture clearly shows and allows for slavery within the context of first century culture and previously…however there is a redemptive hermaneutic at work that points to a time when humanity would become aware that slavery was wrong and God did not approve. There are other examples of this and bound to be more, unseen ones, in the future.

“After centuries of antagonism, we now see it as our task to bring these two ways of revealing the biblical texts – the Christian way and the Jewish way – into dialogue with one another, if we are to understand God’s will and his word aright.”