Good morning, everyone,
I was a runner, an early morning one, in my 50’s. In my 60’s, I switched to walking, still in the morning for the most part, but mixing it with other exercise routines. Now that I’ve moved across the channel from LaConner, I try to walk as much as I can to get there. I like having a goal for my walk, some practical purpose in addition to the value of the exercise itself. Yesterday, it was a haircut that drew me across the bridge. I noticed, starting out in the afternoon, that it was more difficult to get my body into gear. I didn’t enjoy it and for the first time that I can remember, my feet bothered me.
Still I made my way to the barbershop. Tony, the son, trimmed my hair and beard, while his dad, Dick, sat in the other chair and we talked about our spiritual journeys. These times when the three of us talk, without other customers present, are always enjoyable and this was no exception. Eventually I got around to telling them where I am at this point, one of the first times I’ve spoken about it publicly and I was pleased to note that It felt good and right. Seeing God now as a Power or Presence whose nature is love. God cannot be by definition anything else. Certainly not a puppeteer pulling the strings and calling the shots or a moral being issuing judgments. Nope. God is pure love. That’s all God can do: love. And this God resides within us which we sense as a Presence.. “Salvation” occurs when we discover for ourselves that Presence and tap into it. It can happen no other way. I remember a physicist saying at one time that we are all comprised of stardust (emanating from the “Big Bang”) which I interpret as a statement about the beauty and power of our evolutionary nature. From the beginning, we have been gifted with this Presence. Nothing outside us is going to save us. And, I think to add here, this Presence we tap into is also of a nature to trust in and surrender to. Ultimately, this is where I’m headed: to a life of complete surrender to the power of love within me. Tony’s question about the last days, the concept of the “Rapture”, ends up being of no concern to me nor is the idea of Jesus’ physical return some time in the future. Christ is already here, in me, call it what you will.
My return walk took me down Morris Street. I stopped at the Kiwanis Thrift Shop to see if the used books that had been turned in recently included any of my poetry books. Sometimes I find a copy which I then buy for a dollar and redistribute. At First Street I stopped to check my post office box only to remember I hadn’t brought my mailbox key and so ambled south looking at the shop windows as the owners prepared for the onslaught of the Tulip Festival. What a convergence next Sunday, April 1, 2018: Easter, April Fool’s Day, and the start of the Tulip traffic! I find myself attracted as a poet to the first two subjects and their possible interplay. It was the walk home, across the bridge, where my feet noticeably hurt, particularly the soles. To deal with it, I’ll first try my lighter running shoes to see if that does it. Now I’ve got to hurry to get my Zumba class of 25 women and me. I hope to talk with you tomorrow.
Love always, Bob
