Life at 3 miles an Hour

I just put my youngest on a plane back to Boise at the end of her Spring break. A few weeks ago I find out from my oldest that I’m going to be a grandpa this Fall. A few nights ago we celebrated my honeys birthday with a bowling party. If all of these things don’t send me the message that I’m not as young as I’d like to think I am, then maybe the arthritis in my elbow will help reinforce the point. The encouraging thing is that I get to live to fight another day. I’m not sure if it was the realization that I would now have another family members birthday to remember when memory is getting thin, or the pain in my elbow, but I have just recently begun to have a crisis called “what difference do I make?” If you haven’t experienced it yet, you someday will. You might be in the middle of it yourself. It’s not necessarily an age thing. Actually, it is how I wandered into the pastoral arts profession 20 years ago. It just seems to come when the dust settles and a moment of clarity a...

I’m enjoying a few days way from reality while I recover from a mystery illness that has annoyed me for the past few days. As it is completely possible that one of the causes may have been stress related, I’ve chosen a few days away from the source of said stress, namely my office. Anyway, something within me thought that perhaps a trip to the beach and a grande drip from the new purveyors of instant caffeine drinks would be somehow relaxing….. must have been the drugs talking. I forgot that the Tuesday crusaders against peaceful coffee existence would be in force….namely the retired group that has pursued me through numerous caffeine excursions over the years. One humorous episode that came from them this morning was their insistence that the music be turned down as it was just too loud. This, in the midst of them driving everyone, who didn’t have the benefit of headphones, far from them to the other side of a fairly spacious room. Personally, smooth jazz was far more appealing ...

You’ve heard the term “dream job”? Some of you are living it no doubt. I can appreciate the idea of having a dream job. There are some days, most actually, that I think that my existence as pastoral artist within my community o’ faith is a dream job. After all, how many of the rest of you get to do research and study time at coffee shops and cafés? If you do, I hope that the fireplace is working for you Anyway…., dream jobs are one thing, but I hate it when my actual dreams are invaded by my actual job. Far be it from me to complain but, since so much of what I do is for others, I’d prefer to reserve my dream energy just for myself thank you. I woke up this morning with the annoying realization that my dreams, at least the part that I remember, and who really cares about the rest…, were invaded again by my working environment. It makes it seem that I was working even in my sleep. Now there are some in my community who probably feel that I must have been working in my sleep whe...

Being the morning person that I am, I have to tell you that I’m not a fan of the Spring version of daylight savings. It doesn’t help that the first two days of it have come cold, dark and snowy. Part of the benefit of moving to Seattle was to get away from those places where it was still snowing in March. It didn’t happen for the first few Spring times that we were here….just long enough for us to settle in and decide never to move again and now….global warming in reverse. I know, don’t write me letters…global warming doesn’t mean that your place may get warmer, it might mean that the climate is all screwed up. Well it certainly is here and no amount of Dave Matthews in my headphones can take away the fact that I’m sitting at Starbucks on the beach while it is snowing and the only thing matching the daylight savings darkness outside is the darkness of the fireplace inside. But hey, at least we have instant coffee……whatever. Does anyone know if the theory behind stealing an hour i...

It’s morning at the beach, Bruce is in my headphones asking if Rosalita is gonna come out tonight and I’m mourning the passing of another great ideal gone with most of the rest of the credibility and self respect that our economic system once held dear. It’s like listening to the great big flushing of a toilet as you watch all manner of honor and dignity swirling down the hole. Listening to Bruce reminds me that at one time in our history hard work and honorable character might eventually bring respect and success. Now it seems we need either the instant fix or the government bailout to keep our self esteem intact which, God knows, is the most important commodity being traded on our cultural floors. It’s bad enough that I’ve lived through this era of cold damp days with dark fireplaces. I’ve now seen the once proud ideal of the Starbucks experience breathe it’s last. I should have known that something was up this morning when the gulls were shrieking at me in unusual numbers out ...