Life Lessons

I'm noticing that many of the things that end up helping me get through a day come from surprising sources. Moments from my distant past that seem like they should only be a part of the past end up surfacing day by day.

Example: Cross Country - My Cross Country "career" consisted of 2 seasons as an Ohio Northern University Polar Bear. I went out for the team for a variety of reasons -

• It was my first Fall in a new school and I didn't know anybody.
• Although we didn't have XC (that's how the insiders talk) at McComb High School, I had eventually become a 2-Miler in Track (after discovering that I was not built for speed, but I did have some slight talent for endurance).
• It was an open invitation - anyone could walk on.
• I was bored.
• I didn't know (fortunately) that the Races were 5 miles long.

There was not a lot of intensive coaching involved for XC, at least 'back in the day' - we mostly ran long distances, tried to take care of our feet, and took fistfuls of the salt tablets that used to sit around in locker rooms.

One piece of advice, though, comes back to me almost every day:

Even if you have to slow to a walk,

DON'T STOP.

Maybe it comes back because of the number of days when I am slowed to a walk - or a crawl - and the temptation to just pack it in is VERY great. Although my XC career was brief, it's impact shows up on days like today, when I'm hauling around the equivalent (in weight) of 2 of the 'me' I was when I was running, but I still finished the first non-interrupted week of my Walking for Your Life program (which is what it seems like - a walking program aimed at putting off being dead for as long as possible).

What I'm doing shouldn't seem hard - but if you can imagine walking for 1/2-hour twice a day with a beach ball made out of lead tied around your waist, you can get some idea of the difference between me now & me as a Polar Bear - so sometimes hearing the advice above is what makes it possible to take one more step - & to edge closer to life than death. I recommend it.

Funeral for a Friend

I took part in a funeral for a friend this week - It was the person who was my first connection to the Internet, so it seems appropriate to spend a moment to memorialize her in this online forum.

S. was something of a Contemplative or Mystic - a cousin to some of the hermits and/or monks sometimes referred to as the Desert Fathers - although she would have laughed at the name. I think of her this way because of the reading that she did, and shared with me. When she would print out a quote from, say, Simone Weil [a French woman, born to an agnostic Jewish family, who followed her sympathies towards early-20th century workers to the point of declaring herself a Bolshevik by age 10, and who later came to be known as a Christian mystic - a fairly interesting path lived out in a 34-year life], I used to think, "Who READS these people?" - but then I realized, S. did - and she was able to mine these eclectic sources deeply.

S. herself came from rural northern Indiana - a true daughter of the great American Midwest (evidenced in part by her support for the Cubs ... of course). You never know where you will find the next Contemplative. I use the term to refer to someone who pays attention as they go through life, and who consequently finds wonder and amazement in some pretty ordinary-looking places. She made me think of the familiar lines from Elizabeth Barrett Browning:

"Earth's crammed with Heaven,

And every common bush afire with God -

But only he who sees takes off his shoes -

The rest sit round it and pick blackberries."

Unlike many mystics, though, she did not accomplish her contemplation by removing herself to the Desert. Along with her husband she raised a family and worked in very concrete ways to improve Sunday Schools and other ministries in the Churches which were part of their lives. Together, also, they fought a heroic battle with a still-mysterious brain disorder in the final years of her life. You never know where you will find the next Contemplative - or the next heroes.

She chose the lines below to be shared at her funeral. They are by G.A. Studdert-Kennedy, from "The Kiss of God" - With the regret that comes from knowing that I have lost the source of some surprising and insightful glimpses into the wonders of God in the everyday world, I share them here:

So, I looked up to God

And while I held my breath

I saw Him slowly nod,

And knew ... As I had never known aught else,

With certainty sublime and passionate,

Shot through and through

With sheer unutterable bliss,

I knew,

There was no death, but this,

God's kiss,

And then the waking to an everlasting love.