Life at 3 miles an Hour

What began as the promise to a new day with coffee and A chocolate croissant in my new home away from home quickly turned into an hour long search for the key that would enable me to get to my caffeine refuge. It's interesting that one little piece of a specifically carved alloy can determine one's destiny. When you find the right one you can open closed doors, move inanimate objects and begin a journey to a destination that you didn't even realize was possible before turning it. I can, in a sense, become the legendary "key master" of Ghostbusters fame. So I'm looking on a new year with a sense that there are many destinations possible by the end of it and I hold the keys to many of them. I, like many of you, travel in circles where I, depending on the keys held, can influence the destinations of many lives beyond my own. As a Pastoral Artist responsible for the direction and leading of a community o' faith, the keys I choose to turn or not turn can i...

Ok... So I've been enjoying the relative peacefulness here for what, 3 weeks??? Guess who just showed up? If you've read my earlier posts you know the answer to this one. That's right... A new group of retired "women" walkers are now holding court in my upstairs sanctuary. Nice...merry Christmas to me. The week just keeps getting better and better. A few days ago our source of video fulfillment decided that it couldn't do "It's a Wonderful Life" one more time. The little red light just blinked mockingly in the void. Experience told me an the manual validated that it was time to call the Sony service man. Right...like that's going to happen. What it really means is check the papers for the best sale on a new one. There will be no repurposing, reconditioning, or redeployment for the beast. I call it the " beast" because it literally is. Lets face it, when you need a chain hoist to get it up the stairs and then a mini crane...

So it's now week 3 here and I'm pretty much settled in on my new place of inspiration. The final push has been made this morning as I finally succumbed to the chocolate croissant...exceedingly good plan. My intent for these next several weeks is actually to simply post things from the past as I wander through my archives and edit along the way for an attempt at a book during 2012. However, the spirit of the season has begun to mesh with the spirit of protest and I'm beginning to get more and more unsettled about how this is all beginning to be played out in the realm of influence that I have, that being pastoral artist. Since I live in a city where the occupy movement has had a significant presence, I am perhaps more enmeshed in these thoughts than others of my profession in other areas of the country. The best way that I can process is to write, and so I've set out to write down some of my thoughts. Many are not going to like and or agree with me and that's e...

Week 2 in my new neighborhood...I have to say that I'm still liking it. It starts off slowly and then gets busier as the morning progresses...then it's time for me to leave. It's a perfect arrangement...economic success and sanity for me all in the same morning session. As the season marches on I am trying to be more creative in finding the right mix of social and personal time. In the land of pastoral artistry, there is precious little "personal" time, yet at the same time it is essential to my role. It's a paradox of sorts. I'm sitting here in the loft area of my newly adopted hangout and contemplating the greenery of the season. I'm wondering who the first person was that thought it was a good Christmasy thing to do to hang some form of green stuff to bring out the spirit of the season. I'm sure that Wikipedia could give me some clues, I'm just too lazy to investigate. I mean really, for my own heritage remembering the birth of ...

So this morning I have finally clawed my way out of the routine and familiar and am exploring a new possible source of morning inspiration. I've left The beauty of the beachfront for the early morning serenity of a neighborhood. It's a new place actually that I've had my eye on for the past few weeks as I've driven past on my way to the familiar land of corporate caffeine. There is great promise here. The din of the countless groups of retiree's has been replaced by the friendly chatter of the baristas. The corporate bakery has been replaced by some local ventures. There are no big comfy chairs but their is a library like loft to enjoy. It seems as if most people wandering through the doors at is time of day are neighborhood people on their way to other morning destinations. Gone is the frantic rush of commuters trying to replenish for the day before the bus leaves the stop. Gone are the high school girls seeking social coolness with their frilly iced drink...

Starbucks again on a rainy morning, although I do have my sights on another space in the near future….stay tuned. I’m only really here for the view anymore. Everything else has faded for me here like the last credits of a late night movie. The coffee is not a catch. My chair is gone…and there’s only so many cheese Danish that I can consume before someone will need to break out the paddles. The community feel is gone for the most part. Take this morning for example. I stopped for gas and ended up just minutes off my intended schedule. That’s all it took for the curious space phenomenon to shift into high gear. It has always been interesting to me that while Starbucks and others like it have built an empire on creating community, when you actually come into a place, unless it’s a prearranged group, people have a specific method of insuring that they aren’t seated next to someone until absolutely necessary. Individual tables tend to be occupied, every other one, not next to eac...

In the Fall I tend to be in a sort of self evaluation mode for one reason or another. It has come naturally for me over the years. Perhaps it is watching the leaves Fall to the ground and being swept off that helps me to wonder which leaves of my past year have fallen and been blown away to insignificance, which have taken seed, and which have been taken home to a place of prominence by an eager wondering preschooler. I wonder what will last and what will will disappear, what will be remembered and will matter and what was wasted. It's important to know such things when you are in the realm of the pastoral arts. It can be a good measure of worth, whether or not your influence is lasting. Interestingly....or not, in my profession, I find it is likely the "other" things that have the greatest longevity. By other things, I mean things that are not seen as "spiritual"by the pious saints. The evidence I have for this is simply the difficulty that I have inv...

So even though everything was seemingly wrong for it this morning, I’m back here on my blog for a visit. It’s a bit like sitting down with an old friend. Which is probably just code for I need a real life. It’s been more than a month since my last post here. I’ve spent a bit more time with the main focus of my life @ my other blog. I was getting a bit stale so I felt a need to spend some time with this venue that has proven to be a friend and a support in times of transition over the years. The return of Fall has ushered in some fantastic views of the snow covered peaks across the water. This place is full of people seeming to be going nowhere fast. It’s an all stages of life day. Dad’s proudly clutching their infant daughters, old guys discussing local politics, self absorbed individuals tethered to cell phones, and the rest of us plodding along on keyboards, are assembled for one cosmic period in time. It’s a bit amazing to consider that this exact combination of people i...

It seems as if the more I feel the need to write, the more I struggle with any sort of coherent flow of thought to put down. Sometimes it seems as if I am just chasing a cursor across a screen trying to catch a fleeting bit of insight or meaning and it never seems that I can catch it. I’ve even put down the Ipad this morning and returned to the old standby to see if that has any effect. I’m trying to build in a few moments of space to enjoy the beach, enjoy the caffeine, and to allow my mind to wander free on a fabulous Fall day in Seattle. It still seems hemmed in though. My mind drifts to my 2 week old grandson Aiden as, at this very moment, he is enduring the first major trauma of his life on this earth. To protect his privacy, I won’t say any more than that this is one procedure that the male species best participates in as a baby…and the younger the better. On a grander scale of the traumas that he’ll most likely face along his journey, this one is relatively minor, but a...

So today is my birthday… and to celebrate, I’ve wandered down to the beach to grab some coffee, a cheese Danish, and some time with my laptop to ease into everything else that I need to be about today. As far as days go, let me just say that this one is spectacular. There is not a cloud in the sky as the sun shines over the waters toward the mountains. It is one of those days, as Fall approaches, that begins with just a touch of a biting breeze but promises 80 degrees by mid afternoon. I guess that I couldn’t have scripted a better one, regardless of the occasion. This day isn’t about presents for me. My best present arrived yesterday afternoon with the safe delivery of an 8’ 3oz grandson. This day isn’t cake or ice cream or cards or balloons. Although I’m not opposed to celebrating at a happy hour with my gorgeous wife. Birthday’s, in the past several years, have been like the center point on a teeter totter for me. On one side I get to stop just briefly and remember all t...

It's a bit early, even for me, to be down here at the beach. Morning came easy for me today, which is just as well since I have 2 days worth to get done in less than one again. The fog, or "marine layer" as we prefer to call it, is still fairly heavy over the water. The buses have just begun assembling to shuttle their cast of characters downtown. The question looms, "what does this day hold?", for all of us. It's still too early to tell. Things look promising though. There is an orange glow in the haze where the city usually sits. I imagine a sunrise covered in the shroud, optimistically letting us know that the probability is good for another clear day. It's that time of year, late summer, when things look promising, but the verdict is still out. A new school year approaches...new teachers, new subjects, new friends...so much promise of what might be. It's still early though. One never knows, there could be things so much greater than a...

It's low tide this morning. I love low tide. You really get to see what's beneath the surface. Most mornings I come down and everything looks glassy and smooth, waves rippling on the sand in even patterns. Not this morning...today it's ooey and gooey and slimy and green. Tide pools hold little creatures hostage. Crabs scurry for cover to elude the gulls. It's open and raw and honest. In a few hours the tide will come back in and cover it over again and for a time the illusion will hide the reality. The longer I've been in the pastoral artist profession, the more intrigued I've become by the process of the tides. It has become so much a visual image of the invisible process of an honest pursuit of Jesus. I'm not even sure where in history it began. Perhaps somewhere before the dawn of time someone first articulated it innocently enough. Maybe it was in the form of encouragement. It might have been an innocent admiration. It could have been a fo...

Yesterday marked the celebration of 27 years that I have been privileged to be connected with someone who really knows how to live a journey. For a good share of the day we were wished "happy" anniversary from various friends across the country. It was a good day. It was actually a "happy" day. It wasn't a blow out celebration that we have enjoyed some years. It didn't cost a great deal of money. It was just two people enjoying the journey and some simple pleasures that we have come to appreciate during within the chapter of our lives known as the Seattle years. This morning, as I look back on the day and the years, I am contemplating the idea of "happy". I wonder, when we offer it, if it represents the idea of simply enjoying a day, or does it reflect more than that. We say happy birthday and I have to imagine that, for the most part, it means celebrate the day. Have your cake and eat it too. I know that, speaking for myself, I am not r...

As I pulled in here this morning it occurred to me that it's been 3 months since the last entry in this chronological journey. I'm not even sure why I'm starting back up again, to be honest. I guess that maybe I'm needing a place to process again all that transpires along my journey. It's a way for me to stop and smell the roses along the way. This year there have been so many and sometimes it seems as if I've barely noticed. Honestly, I've lived more this year than most people live in a decade. As one adventure rolls into another and age prevents my memory from always keeping up, I'm left with the fleeting dream images that are sometimes so clear when you wake up in the morning, only to disappear with the morning coffee. It's a shame really...to determine to live a better story, make a decent attempt at it, and then forget where you put the pages. So here's to living a better story. I can tell it's possible if you set yourself towa...

Back again at my home by the sea...ok so it's only a temporary home enjoyed periodically and it's not technically by the sea...but it is salt water all the same. Officially, in all honesty, which is a good trait for a pastoral artist to have, I am once again situating myself down at alki beach, in the great city of Seattle, on the shores of puget sound. The last time that I posted from here was in early February. I found myself in survival mode from grad school and life. The good news is that I survived. The bad news... Well guess what? There is no bad news. Part of the reason for my sabbatical from here is that I was becoming far too cynical for even my own good. When that happens, it begins to be reflected in my outlets...those being either my teaching or my writing. Since the teaching/preaching thing is a paying gig, I needed to focus on that and then let the other go. At the time I didn't even know if I would ever come back. I will tell you that it's been ...

While many of the rest of you are still wrestling with wind chill, snow blowers and shovels, I’m enjoying the view near the fireplace as the sun peaks over the skyline and gleams rose colored on the mountains across the water. It’s a pretty exceptional day for a place rumored to be the gloom and gray capital of the world. Te ferries are making their trek to the islands and the cargo ships are heading north towards open water. It’s a fairly normal day here on the beach, with The Civil Wars playing in my headphones and people lined up for their morning fix. I just finished another round of grad school discussions online and now I need to begin to put my mind into the realm of my paying gig, that of being pastoral artist to a wonderful community o’ faith. Wednesday morning is my transition point. I’m off on Mondays and I enjoy spending the day with my princess Lily. Tuesdays are a sort of admin, make sense of my office, day. Wednesday I transition into what is really going to b...

One of the things that I most appreciate about life is that it is different every day. Don’t misunderstand… some days just suck. The promising thing though is that there is always another that might suck less. It also could be magnificent, beyond anything you could have imagined. It could happen. This day is hardly the latter, but it could pass for one that sucks less. In the life of a pastoral artist, you look for inspiration and promise wherever you can find it. I’ll let you in on a few trade secrets. Some days in the life of one attempting to be a follower of Jesus, it’s not all Joel Osteen. My own personal opinion…with a smile like that, either he’s not really a pastoral type or he has Rembrandt for a tattoo artist. Here’s some insight into reality. Some days it’s hard to find Jesus. Some days the last people I want to be around are other people who claim to follow Jesus. Some days the sermons are just terrible. It’s not a reflection on the message…strictly the messen...

Did you ever have one of those moments that forced you to question the real value of all of your efforts? What I’m talking about is a moment that draws deep into your motives and methods and causes you to ask the underlying, “why do I (we) do all of this anyway”? It is a profound “What’s the point of this exercise” reality check that helps one look deep into Alice’s mirror and wrestle with what is real and what is not, what matters and what doesn’t. Let me just say this; if you haven’t then you need to, everyone does. Unfortunately, in my opinion, the ones that we need to have do not happen with our choosing. They are thrust upon us unexpectedly. They are often induced by tragedy, either our own or others who might be close to us. For me, in my position as pastoral artist of a vibrant community o’ faith, it often comes as I witness it in the lives of the people I serve beside. My problem is that I am a planner. I live in the future and I’m always planning on how we’ll all ...

Holy crap I am out of sorts this morning….how’s that for a way to start a reflection for the day? One thing that speaks for itself is that it is Friday and I am just getting to sit down and write. I’ve made attempts the past 3 days to keep myself in a balanced equilibrium and to maintain the holy grail of my schedule, but here we are. This week, as school has begun along with some critical points of life in my community o’ faith, I have felt like the voice track in a Godzilla movie. I always seem to be one phrase off of real time. Just in case you were wondering, it doesn’t work well for a driven, perfectionist type of individual like myself. Just as I thought that perhaps all was lost for this week, I opened my class site and God delivered once again in the form of conviction…not that I needed any more conviction, really. It’s just the way He chose to deliver it. In the opening of my section of journaling, a quote jumped out at me from Parker Palmer’s work Let Your Life Spea...

It’s dark down here this morning although there is also an unusually large number of people for a Wednesday morning. It’s generally an older crowd which now, unfortunately, I’ll have to admit to belonging to. Some days it still seems as if we’d just moved here, which would mean I was still in my 30’s. Other days, like this day, it seems as if that were a whole lifetime ago. Pink Floyd is in my headphones and I’m realizing that it’s now considered an “oldie”. Whatever….. It’s a new year and another year in which I can still live and work circles around my former age group. Joanne and I celebrated the entrance of a new year by treating ourselves to a trip to Victoria, BC on Vancouver Island. It was actually our traditional Christmas gift of an experience that we began last year during our Advent Conspiracy campaign within our community o’ faith. Instead of shooting the moon with relatively short lived gifts, we treat ourselves to a memory building experience and then give the r...