It was a normal afternoon. I had finished my homework and was playing around the house. when I say house I mean a ninth floor 3.5 bedroom apartment in a poetically named Peace Street in the just off-cool suburbs of my home town. This apartment complex had trash chutes in each apartment, usually next to the kitchen (natch). You would throw your bagged (mostly) trash in there, it would crash down to the ground floor into very large bins which would then be collected by the garbage disposal people. Occasionally the trash would get stuck in a floor or between floors, and would need someone, usually the caretaker, to come around and prod it down with long brooms. At any rate, this afternoon as I was playing around the house I went by the chute and caught a whiff of some pungent smells. I opened the chute and could see a bunch of trash stuck just past our opening. Being that my parents had taught me the civic virtues, I thought I would do my part to help the trash down. That is the good part. the bad part is my pyromania. Combine the two...and well. My thought process was simple: Trash is stuck here. I have a box of matches in my pocket (doesn't everyone?). If I burn the trash to ashes it will go down faster.
With such brilliance that would have astounded a young Plato, I struck a match and threw it into the pile of trash....WHOOSH!
I might not have been very bright (or too bright my grandmother would say) but I was also not stupid. I immediately slammed the chute closed, picked up my toys and went to my room to play, as far away from the mess as possible. I did wonder what happened, though. It did not take me long to find out. Apparently the huge fireball inched its combustible way slowly down, floor by floor, spewing smoke and toxic fumes in every apartment. Eventually it landed on the ground floor where it proceeded to double-WHOOSH if that's possible, as it touched even more combustible material. The fire engines arrived, the police arrived. Not much after that they arrived at my door. I am still not sure how they could trace it to, ahem, me, perhaps it had something to do with previous accidents (incidents?). The worse part of my punishment was having to surrendered my prized box of matches and my 18 oz. bottle of starter fluid.
I hope you are all on fire this week as you work through our attempts at taming our minds. I did not emphasize this last time, because frankly I thought it obvious, but here is how I see it. We are all running around with our hair on fire. At least that's how our minds see the world and life in general. Hair on fire is not a good thing. It usually makes you a little more hurried than usual, and less prone to want to sit down for a while, have a cup of tea, visit with a good friend and discuss the formula for converting temperatures from Fahrenheit to Celsius.
Now, usually this is a bad thing. So why on earth would God say this: "When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them." (Acts 2:1-6)
All of us have fire in our hair, but this is (or should be) Holy Fire. The trick is to stop long enough to recognize it as such. So, pay attention this week to how crazy your mind is, how it makes you think you are on fire, and rushes you about.
You ARE on fire, but this is the kind of fire that does not consume bushes or hair! You can stay in it and not get burned. But you cannot stay in it without being changed...
Look over your Christ-likeness list and pay attention to all those flames! Let it rekindle you. Let the fire transform your minds. You can blow on the flames by working on the quality of your thinking.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Quality of your thinking
The first stage of any spiritual exercise is to spend time looking for any traces of Christ inside. Being generous with myself as I can be with others I will be able to find quite a few. I am generous, loyal, encouraging. Of course, my mind always add a "but" - as in, generous yes, but how about that time when I wasn't? How about loyal? Sure, loyal when it suits you....and so on.
"As he thinketh in his heart, so is he." (Prov 23:7) Why is that? The version in the NIV reads: "For he is the kind of person who is always thinking about the cost."
In 1902 James Allen published an influential essay called "As a Man Thinketh":
In 2006 the best-selling self-help book The Secret written by Rhonda Byrne states:
My grandfather always used to say that the world was a mirror, reflecting back to me who I really was. I have no proof, but I do not doubt that my grandfather, a voracious reader of obscure writings, probably read Allen.
But, there is something that has always bothered me, there is something dangerous about this way of thinking. The focus is how I think, how I feel, how I, how I...it is all about me! So there is a quality of thinking which is not always good. If I spend all my time staring at the mirror I might just forget to look beyond it, at my neighbor.
Everyone knows the myth of Narcissus: Narcissus was a hunter from who was renowned for his beauty. He was exceptionally proud of his own beauty to the point that he disdained those who loved him. The goddess Nemesis (who was the spirit of divine retribution against those who succumb to hubris and arrogance before the gods) saw his arrogance and attracted Narcissus to a pool where he saw his own reflection in the waters and fell in love with it, not realizing it was merely an image. Unable to leave the beauty of his reflection, Narcissus died slowly, without ever being able to look away.
At this point I think of one of my favorite passages from Paul: Philippians 4:1-9. Without a doubt if Narcissus had read Paul he would have avoided a slow, debilitating death entranced by his own beauty...There are other small "exercises" which can be done on a daily basis, on an hourly basis, anywhere, anytime, simple exercises to orient my thinking to God and God's will:
* I will focus my thinking upon heavenly, not earthly, things (Col.3:2; Phil.3:19-20; 4:8).
* I will think humble thoughts, not proud ones (Rm.12:2-3).
* I will set my thoughts upon things that unite me with my fellow believers, rather than separating me from them (Rom.12:16; 15:5; 2Cor.13:11; 1Pet.3:8).
* I will think like the Son, and not like the self-interested (Phil.2:2-4).
* I will think like the Spirit, not like the flesh (Rm.8:6).
* I will think maturely not childishly (1Cor.13:11; Phil.3:15).
"As he thinketh in his heart, so is he." (Prov 23:7) Why is that? The version in the NIV reads: "For he is the kind of person who is always thinking about the cost."
In 1902 James Allen published an influential essay called "As a Man Thinketh":
Mind is the Master power that moulds and makes,
And Man is Mind, and evermore he takes
The tool of Thought, and, shaping what he wills,
Brings forth a thousand joys, a thousand ills: —
He thinks in secret, and it comes to pass:
Environment is but his looking-glass.
In 2006 the best-selling self-help book The Secret written by Rhonda Byrne states:
Whatever is going on in your mind is what you are attracting. We are like magnets - like attract like. You become and attract what you think.
My grandfather always used to say that the world was a mirror, reflecting back to me who I really was. I have no proof, but I do not doubt that my grandfather, a voracious reader of obscure writings, probably read Allen.
But, there is something that has always bothered me, there is something dangerous about this way of thinking. The focus is how I think, how I feel, how I, how I...it is all about me! So there is a quality of thinking which is not always good. If I spend all my time staring at the mirror I might just forget to look beyond it, at my neighbor.
Everyone knows the myth of Narcissus: Narcissus was a hunter from who was renowned for his beauty. He was exceptionally proud of his own beauty to the point that he disdained those who loved him. The goddess Nemesis (who was the spirit of divine retribution against those who succumb to hubris and arrogance before the gods) saw his arrogance and attracted Narcissus to a pool where he saw his own reflection in the waters and fell in love with it, not realizing it was merely an image. Unable to leave the beauty of his reflection, Narcissus died slowly, without ever being able to look away.
At this point I think of one of my favorite passages from Paul: Philippians 4:1-9. Without a doubt if Narcissus had read Paul he would have avoided a slow, debilitating death entranced by his own beauty...There are other small "exercises" which can be done on a daily basis, on an hourly basis, anywhere, anytime, simple exercises to orient my thinking to God and God's will:
* I will focus my thinking upon heavenly, not earthly, things (Col.3:2; Phil.3:19-20; 4:8).
* I will think humble thoughts, not proud ones (Rm.12:2-3).
* I will set my thoughts upon things that unite me with my fellow believers, rather than separating me from them (Rom.12:16; 15:5; 2Cor.13:11; 1Pet.3:8).
* I will think like the Son, and not like the self-interested (Phil.2:2-4).
* I will think like the Spirit, not like the flesh (Rm.8:6).
* I will think maturely not childishly (1Cor.13:11; Phil.3:15).
Monday, March 14, 2011
It all your fault!
The tsunami disaster that struck Japan has brought devastation at an
unbelievable scale. Looking at the pictures and videos the sheer
monstrosity of the thing looks like something from a Godzilla movie. I
am pretty certain that I will never watch Godzilla v. Mothra in quite
the same way ever again. Some may wonder why even watch it in the first
place...but that's another conversation.
unbelievable scale. Looking at the pictures and videos the sheer
monstrosity of the thing looks like something from a Godzilla movie. I
am pretty certain that I will never watch Godzilla v. Mothra in quite
the same way ever again. Some may wonder why even watch it in the first
place...but that's another conversation.
Almost immediately following the first news reports disaster relief
organizations started appealing for donations. I do not want to be
callous about this so let me say that we should help, that our hearts
should be softened by devastation. But...
...a recent study ("Donating to disaster victims: Responses to natural
and humanly caused events" by Hanna Zagefka, et al) looked into why
people give more money to natural disasters like the a tsunami than
human ones like the crisis of Darfur. The bottom line: we judge!
If you are a victim of a natural disaster, then, the study shows, others
will have compassion and help you, since it was not your fault. But in a
civil war, it is less likely that people will sympathize, since wars are
(obviously) man-made "disasters."
For me this applies even in the micro level. I remember conversations
around the long dark cherry dinner table at my house when I was younger.
My father, it seems, was a firm believer in the Ben Franklin motto of
"God helps those who help themselves", going so far as to label
"communist" (a strong word in those days) anyone who suggested the need
for any social action. My grandmother, whose Scottish blood simply would
not allow her to agree with anyone, would hold on firmly to the Hilel
camp of "If I am not for myself, then who will be for me? And if I am
only for myself, then what am I? And if not now, when?"
So over rice and beans, delicious fried pastries called "pasteis",
toasted manioc flour with bananas, and copious amounts of passion fruit
juice, the debate between the Franklinites and the Hilelists would go on
and on...Oh how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell
together in unity! (Ps. 133).
But, it seems to me now, that both sides miss the crucial point, which I
hope we are all trying to work on: judgment. Not only judgment of
others, but judgment of ourselves. As you look in the mirror, and peel
back the layers of self judgment (wrinkles, resentment, vanity) and
search for Christ, until you see the face of Christ in the mirror. And
then knowing that you, with all your failures, can do the same for your
neighbor. Ah! Now we are getting somewhere!
Friday, March 4, 2011
Days to forget, impossible
So what would a panic attack look like? I think I experienced one a couple of days ago. For an introvert to be forced to handle more than 2 hours of extroverted activities without a chance to recharge is very hard. To have to do it overnight for a period of 24+ hours total is lunacy!
My blood pressure was probably through the roof, and my heart rate was so accelerated I could feel my heart trying to jump out of my chest. And this I when I was sitting alone in my room. It took me about 4 hours to slow down enough to be able to actually sleep. I could not read or watch TV. I had enough common sense to stop at 3 beers, I am pretty sure that drinking would only have made it worse.
So add my terror with the constant, or near constant, questioning by others about whether I was OK. If you do not feel ok and do not feel like talking about it, the only way to get around it is to fake it. It is a lot of pressure to seem like I was ok, but it did stop the nagging.
On top of it all, there is my disrespect for 90% of the people there, my ever increasing lack of respect for the institution I work for. It is not that I think I am superior to the people there, it is a fact that I am better than they are. Not in an existential sense, of course. But in an educational and intellectual level. Is this hubris? Most likely. But it is also true. I simply had absolutely no desire to interact with any of the events and activities and people.
If only there was some dancing! With dancing I can just move and interact, in a sense, with others. Dancing (and music) are universal languages, and a great equalizer. To what use is my education if I cannot move to the beat? The best "conversations" I have ever had were done hip-to-hip on a dance floor.
What do I take from this? The importance of routine for me seems to border on the autistic. The same things on a daily basis: my time for reading and study and meditation, my evening runs. It is obviously important to have the capacity to control and organize my surroundings to suit my preferences - I do not think i am special in that sense, but rather this is a natural human need to terraform their environment.
Whenever I move into a new office or new space, I immediately go about "making it mine" - adding pictures to the walls, changing the lighting, rearranging the furniture. At home I change all the furniture around at least two or three times a year, much to my family's chagrin.
Oh I could go on.
The two days were horrible. I had to go through it alone. That was possibly the worse part, but also (possibly) the best thing. I know some things about myself much better now. I might just be able to be a little more real in my relationships, my interactions with others.
After about an hour punching a heavy bag this afternoon I feel like I have cleared all the poisons from my body. I am tired now, ready to go to bed. I hope to sleep well.
My blood pressure was probably through the roof, and my heart rate was so accelerated I could feel my heart trying to jump out of my chest. And this I when I was sitting alone in my room. It took me about 4 hours to slow down enough to be able to actually sleep. I could not read or watch TV. I had enough common sense to stop at 3 beers, I am pretty sure that drinking would only have made it worse.
So add my terror with the constant, or near constant, questioning by others about whether I was OK. If you do not feel ok and do not feel like talking about it, the only way to get around it is to fake it. It is a lot of pressure to seem like I was ok, but it did stop the nagging.
On top of it all, there is my disrespect for 90% of the people there, my ever increasing lack of respect for the institution I work for. It is not that I think I am superior to the people there, it is a fact that I am better than they are. Not in an existential sense, of course. But in an educational and intellectual level. Is this hubris? Most likely. But it is also true. I simply had absolutely no desire to interact with any of the events and activities and people.
If only there was some dancing! With dancing I can just move and interact, in a sense, with others. Dancing (and music) are universal languages, and a great equalizer. To what use is my education if I cannot move to the beat? The best "conversations" I have ever had were done hip-to-hip on a dance floor.
What do I take from this? The importance of routine for me seems to border on the autistic. The same things on a daily basis: my time for reading and study and meditation, my evening runs. It is obviously important to have the capacity to control and organize my surroundings to suit my preferences - I do not think i am special in that sense, but rather this is a natural human need to terraform their environment.
Whenever I move into a new office or new space, I immediately go about "making it mine" - adding pictures to the walls, changing the lighting, rearranging the furniture. At home I change all the furniture around at least two or three times a year, much to my family's chagrin.
Oh I could go on.
The two days were horrible. I had to go through it alone. That was possibly the worse part, but also (possibly) the best thing. I know some things about myself much better now. I might just be able to be a little more real in my relationships, my interactions with others.
After about an hour punching a heavy bag this afternoon I feel like I have cleared all the poisons from my body. I am tired now, ready to go to bed. I hope to sleep well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)