I was asked during lunch conversation today who Wendell Berry is. What mostly came to my mind was his set of poems entitled The Country of Marriage. And so I picked them up this afternoon to linger over them again. Refreshing poems well-rooted in the soil.
I’ve been married 36 years. Sometimes I thrash and chafe, not wanting to be married. (I am certainly not alone in this occasional squall.) When it happens it does so for any number of reasons that all seem to be anchored in one; namely that I am profoundly selfish and truly ignorant of what I am. It’s a radically stupid attitude to have since to the best of my recollection, every blessing I’ve ever received has come to me in marriage.
As I write this evening, I am not writing out of that dissatisfaction. I am content in my marriage.
In one of Berry’s poems, he describes his marriage as a path that leads from a well tended garden into the unknown sections of a dark woods. The known allows him to strike out into the unknown with a fresh sense of stability and anchoring. But then being in the unknown produces a deep sense of longing to return to the comfort of the known.
This is true of my marriage. There are large portions of it that are a lovely, orderly, well tended garden with paths that thread through groupings of fragrant blossoms and nourishing fruit. Familiarity of those paths lead me into dark regions that I don’t know very well at all. (What man could not say this about his wife?) Those dark areas, while fascinating, become unnerving, being filled with peculiar vibrations and scents and movements that startle and keep one off balance. After a short while, I take the return path with deeper appreciation to the safety of the known, realizing that the dark areas are bigger than I suspected and what is unknown will only ever be known slowly.
In this ebb and flow of content and discontent, I concede that my marriage is not an end-all-be-all in the Romantic ideal, but a country to be explored and mapped, settled and sometimes left wild.
Today’s Influences and Soundtrack:
Wendell Berry, Collected Poems
J.S. Bach, Goldberg Variations, Cello Suites
Pat Metheny, Still Life Talking
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Looking for Renewal
Tonite, all the old pains of a lifetime have come back to visit.
I fell down the stairs, about two hours ago, and every injury I sustained while growing up seems to have been renewed. When I was a kid, I was climbing an old pear tree in my grandmother’s yard and as I reached up I grabbed a dead branch. The branch gave way and I watched in wonder as 16 shades of green rushed upward to a blue sky just before I landed on my back. I couldn’t straighten myself for two days. Back troubles have plagued me since.
When in high school, I got into a psychological scuffle with a friend and kicked his books off the stage where we were practicing for a musical. He made gestures as if to reconcile and reached up his hand in order to shake on peace. When I grasped his hand, he pulled me off the stage, where I crashed headfirst into the orchestra pit. I broke my collar bone and had a concussion for three days. Another friend drove me to the hospital and he reported that the only thing I did was ask him every 20 seconds “What time is it?” for more than an hour. When the weather changes, my collar bone notifies me.
When living in New York, I fell off the roof of a house, shattered my elbow, fractured my hip and gave myself a concussion that lasted two days. In surgery, they removed the pieces of elbow because they couldn’t reconstruct it, and I spent 6 weeks doing therapy to get my range of motion back. The leftovers were chronic arthritis type weakness and pain in the right arm. but that is consolation when i think that I should have been paralyzed.
But deeper than these, I talked with a woman today who just gave her child to another for adoption and she is grieving over what she will not experience and enjoy; all those blessings of motherhood as he grows up. She won’t get the privilege of the first laugh, the first steps, learning to read and sing, t-ball games and puppy love. In addition, she has two other kids that she hasn’t been with in two years and is feeling the loss of motherly connection with them. Soon she will move to a new city, having been emptied of the common joys of life because of bad choices with ugly consequences.
My body hurts and my heart hurts. I long for the world to be renewed.
“Life is pain, Princess. Anyone who tells you differently is selling something.” -Princess Bride.
Today’s Influences and Soundtrack:
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers.
Solomon of Israel, Proverbs of the Ancient Middle East.
Roy Whelden, Galax
Richard Souther, Cross Currents
G.F. Handel, Water Music
I fell down the stairs, about two hours ago, and every injury I sustained while growing up seems to have been renewed. When I was a kid, I was climbing an old pear tree in my grandmother’s yard and as I reached up I grabbed a dead branch. The branch gave way and I watched in wonder as 16 shades of green rushed upward to a blue sky just before I landed on my back. I couldn’t straighten myself for two days. Back troubles have plagued me since.
When in high school, I got into a psychological scuffle with a friend and kicked his books off the stage where we were practicing for a musical. He made gestures as if to reconcile and reached up his hand in order to shake on peace. When I grasped his hand, he pulled me off the stage, where I crashed headfirst into the orchestra pit. I broke my collar bone and had a concussion for three days. Another friend drove me to the hospital and he reported that the only thing I did was ask him every 20 seconds “What time is it?” for more than an hour. When the weather changes, my collar bone notifies me.
When living in New York, I fell off the roof of a house, shattered my elbow, fractured my hip and gave myself a concussion that lasted two days. In surgery, they removed the pieces of elbow because they couldn’t reconstruct it, and I spent 6 weeks doing therapy to get my range of motion back. The leftovers were chronic arthritis type weakness and pain in the right arm. but that is consolation when i think that I should have been paralyzed.
But deeper than these, I talked with a woman today who just gave her child to another for adoption and she is grieving over what she will not experience and enjoy; all those blessings of motherhood as he grows up. She won’t get the privilege of the first laugh, the first steps, learning to read and sing, t-ball games and puppy love. In addition, she has two other kids that she hasn’t been with in two years and is feeling the loss of motherly connection with them. Soon she will move to a new city, having been emptied of the common joys of life because of bad choices with ugly consequences.
My body hurts and my heart hurts. I long for the world to be renewed.
“Life is pain, Princess. Anyone who tells you differently is selling something.” -Princess Bride.
Today’s Influences and Soundtrack:
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers.
Solomon of Israel, Proverbs of the Ancient Middle East.
Roy Whelden, Galax
Richard Souther, Cross Currents
G.F. Handel, Water Music
Friday, April 10, 2009
Good?
I wonder how many people would look at this day as the most important day of the year? One of the deepest problems with western civilization in the heights of these days is its appalling nearsightedness. It has concluded that pop culture and mass culture, the acceptable production of our consumerist times, are the pinnacle and subsistence of existence. You know, rock stars, movie heroines, Abercrombie and Fitch, iPhone, and a myriad of other superfluous and silly things that we think we can’t live without. It assumes that man is the solution for all his stupid little needs. All of these amount to so very little in the larger scheme of reality.
There was a time when the calendar of western civilization was governed by the events of the religious year. Moreso, the calendar of western civilization was governed by Christianity. Not because of some religious hegemony, but because the culture as a whole really did understand that Jesus the anointed rose from the dead (by affirmation of Tacitus, Josephus and Saul of Tarsus), and as such it should shape all existence under his messiahship. (For the modernist who wants to wretch at this, I suggest reading some older history books; i.e., those written before 1900, and not modern. The new ones have been corrupted with the most insidious and self-absorbed scientism and revisionism. Man is so remarkably arrogant.) The calendar moved from Advent to Lent to Pentecost to Whitsunday and so on. The progression of time was marked by the significant occurrences in the history of mankind. Not those anchored in a scientific interpretation of the universe, but those that mark the promise and inauguration of renewal.
Today, the darkest and most difficult and most necessary of days, is the best of all. The Jewish messiah, the so-called anointed, was executed by civil determination, bearing in his person and body the terminal sentence of mankind as declared by the bar of absolute and perfect justice. According to Christian tradition, all things pointed forward to this day, and all things point back to this day. In exchange, mankind receives not judgment, but blessing and gifting which leads to renewal and hope. It is because of this that western civilization stands out from all others as being the most vigorous, the most creative, the most dynamic, and the most productive of all other civilizations. We have yet to see the endpoint and the fruit of such a hard and significant day of sacrifice.
Want to know why this day is declared “good”? Because, once, everything justice demanded was satisfied, and what was left in its place was undeserved and unearned love. How could anyone explain that?
Today’s Influences and Soundtrack:
Micah of Moresheth, Oracles
Richard Gamble, The Great Tradition
Gioachino Rossini, String Quartets
Pat Metheny, American Garage
There was a time when the calendar of western civilization was governed by the events of the religious year. Moreso, the calendar of western civilization was governed by Christianity. Not because of some religious hegemony, but because the culture as a whole really did understand that Jesus the anointed rose from the dead (by affirmation of Tacitus, Josephus and Saul of Tarsus), and as such it should shape all existence under his messiahship. (For the modernist who wants to wretch at this, I suggest reading some older history books; i.e., those written before 1900, and not modern. The new ones have been corrupted with the most insidious and self-absorbed scientism and revisionism. Man is so remarkably arrogant.) The calendar moved from Advent to Lent to Pentecost to Whitsunday and so on. The progression of time was marked by the significant occurrences in the history of mankind. Not those anchored in a scientific interpretation of the universe, but those that mark the promise and inauguration of renewal.
Today, the darkest and most difficult and most necessary of days, is the best of all. The Jewish messiah, the so-called anointed, was executed by civil determination, bearing in his person and body the terminal sentence of mankind as declared by the bar of absolute and perfect justice. According to Christian tradition, all things pointed forward to this day, and all things point back to this day. In exchange, mankind receives not judgment, but blessing and gifting which leads to renewal and hope. It is because of this that western civilization stands out from all others as being the most vigorous, the most creative, the most dynamic, and the most productive of all other civilizations. We have yet to see the endpoint and the fruit of such a hard and significant day of sacrifice.
Want to know why this day is declared “good”? Because, once, everything justice demanded was satisfied, and what was left in its place was undeserved and unearned love. How could anyone explain that?
Today’s Influences and Soundtrack:
Micah of Moresheth, Oracles
Richard Gamble, The Great Tradition
Gioachino Rossini, String Quartets
Pat Metheny, American Garage
Monday, April 6, 2009
Dinner (revised)
I'm in recovery mode in greater St. Louis. I had a heart attack on Friday. But I’m not sure it was really a heart attack. The cardiologist who did the catheterization said it was a mild heart attack, but another cardiologist who works in a different hospital says its only a heart attack if there is muscle damage. I didn’t have any pain and there hasn’t been any muscle damage, but there was a plugged artery that they roto-rootered and put in a culvert. But in either case, attack or no, they did this procedure and now I’m in recovery mode.
My dad went through open heart surgery when he was 54 years old. He was six weeks in recovering from it. I had a heart catheterization on Friday (I was awake the whole time), walked out of ICU to the telemetry wing on Saturday, and was home kicking a soccer ball to my granddaughter on Sunday afternoon. I am awed and grateful for the day of medical arts in which I live.
Recovery mode has been a kind of paradigm shift, however. It's one thing when your general physician says you need to watch what you eat because there's too many cookies in your diet, and another when your cardiologist says, "Here's what you'll be ingesting each day for the next year."
When I walked out of the hospital yesterday I was given two sheets of instructions for my medications. This is the craziest stew I've ever had. Each day I get to take: Metoprolol tartrate, Lisinopril, Plavix, Lipitor, Niaspan, Centrum Silver, Aspirin, and these massive Fish Oil capsules (they are as big as olives). I also get to keep on hand some Nitroglycerin tablets. The weird part about that is the only thing I've ever known nitro to be used for was fuel in funnycars. For those of you who don't know much about dragstrips, I can't help you here. I keep looking for a warning label that says "Don't chew: danger of explosion" but I'm not finding it. After I take the meds, if there is room left over, I get to have food.
Have you ever wondered where fish oil comes from? Get this ... herring, anchovy, mackerel, sardine, menhaden, smelt, tuna and sand lance. These are things no one ever normally puts in their mouth, but I guess it’s okay if they’ve been converted to capsule form. And what is fish oil anyway? The polite language on the label says "fish ingredients". What do they do, put the fish in a press and squeeze the oil out? Hmm. Yeah ... that's like "beef byproducts". I've decided to never eat anything that is simply labeled "beef byproducts". We were surrounded by dairy farms when we lived in New York. I've seen the fields littered with cow byproducts. *sigh*... so I'm eating fish byproducts. Smells like fish byproducts. At least its promoted as Mercury Free. I sure wouldn’t want gain weight.
So, aside from listening to the Dove chocolate whisper sweet teases to me, I've been resting, reading, listening to music and harassing my wife. (I want her to be happy when I return to work). I went for a 1-mile walk today. Tomorrow I see my docs to find out what I can and cannot do for the next few weeks.
What comes of this though is the pointed reminder that, actually, today was never guaranteed to me. Now that it’s here, it’s a good day and I’m glad for it.
Today’s Influences and Soundtrack:
Solomon of Israel, Proverbs from the Persian World
Greg Mortgensen, Three Cups of Tea
Isaac Asimov, Second Foundation
Ralph Vaughan-Williams, Symphony No. 3
Diamond Rio, Completely
Jeff Buckley, Grace
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Leprechaun Lights
Unintentionally, my house was decorated for St. Patrick’s Day.The only time I put lights on my house is for Christmas as I am still at heart a child. My deck has rope lighting as an accent and low level enhancement, but its not intended to be as obvious as Christmas lights. I hate Halloween lights because I think putting orange lights on your house for such a day is stupid. It’s a complete marketing gimmick and doesn’t make sense. Seriously, what’s to celebrate about dead things and witches? If that kind of stuff was really laying on our front lawn, we’d be rather freaked out. We’d call the police and want an animal service to come haul it away.
And electric hearts for Valentine’s? Flashing red and pink. How romantic.
But Tuesday morning as my day was beginning, I couldn’t help but chuckle. I was bombarded with the lights of the little people. There were green LED’s everywhere. Green LED on my stereo. Green LED on my clock radio. Green LED’s on my telephone modem. Green LED’s on my Internet modem. Green LED’s on my wireless router. Green LED on my computer waiting in standby and Green LED on its’ powerblock. Green LED’s all over the printer. Green LED on the microwave. Green LED on the coffeemaker. Green LED on the GFCI circuits in my kitchen. Green LED on the portable DVD player. Green LED on the automatic dishwasher. Green LED on the stove.
How did we ever get to the point that we needed Green LED’s on everything? It sort of reminds me of the “Check Engine” light on the dashboard of my car. What is it telling me really? Pretty soon I expect I’ll see a Green LED on my toothbrush (“… ready for brushing … thank you for your cooperation …”)
My house used to be dark at night. Good God! … save me from the electrical engineers!
Today’s Influences and Soundtrack:
Solomon of Israel, Proverbs from the Persian world.
Chad Oliver, Rite of Passage
Isaac Asimov, Foundation and Empire
Jean Sibelius, Symphony No. 7
Bob James, Angels of Shanghai
Moby, Porcelain
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Desperately Seeking Seclusion
At one time I was a student of the forests. I’m sure I mentioned that somewhere. For nearly four years, I spent every other day in a Cypress-Tupelo swamp by myself measuring trees, listening to the wind in the branches and the barred owls calling to one another, avoiding copperheads, and gazing in wonder at a world that few get to see. I didn’t have to talk to anyone or see anyone or interact with anyone for 8 hours at a time. I delighted in Uvularia and Laportea and Botrychium and Dicentra, as well as hundreds of other wildflowers. I felt like the herbalist in “The Harvester”. When it rained I got wet, and when the sun came out I got hot, but it was never terribly trying ... well … maybe the mosquitoes were. I was periodically surprised by Great Blue Heron coming home to the rookery, or the sweet licorice fragrance of Ozmorhiza, or a covey of Woodcocks bursting from the brush as I made my way along the transition zones. I saw grapevines as old as oaks, and fawn still wet from being born not an hour before. I had a taste of what I thought paradise was like.I’m an introvert. And sometimes I miss home.
Today’s Influences and Soundtrack:
Gene Stratton Porter, The Harvester
John Muir, Into the Wilderness
Franz Schubert, “Unfinished” Symphony
Jonn Serrie, Planetary Chronicles Vol.2
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Gridlock
I’m watching the rhetoric heat up over the 800-billion dollar stimulus package being promoted by some of our illustrious representatives. In one report it was said that the President has been compelled to remind Congress who won the election in November.
It humors me to see those who rode a wave of adulation into public office now get to work with the reality of a wisely crafted representative system. Winning an election to public office in the United States does not mean that one has now been given a mandate for the exercise of power. A President is not a king, but the chairman of the committee. A senator is not a Lord, but a State’s representative ostensibly promoting the interests of that state. A representative in the House is not a nobleman, but a messenger of the regional concerns. Election to office means that one has been trusted as a public servant. And the public has a mixed notion of what it deems suitable … hence the battle of ideas and intentions and language in getting a bill passed.
Our founding fathers observed first hand man’s inclinations toward totalitarian power. They built a system that would immediately grind to a halt if there was fundamental disagreement about why a law is needed or how it should be structured. And if some in office choose to be an obstacle for others in office because there is a disparity of conviction, then I’m all for it. There is safety in gridlock.
Today’s Influences and Soundtrack:
Founding Fathers, The Declaration of Independence
Constitutional Convention, The Constitution of the United States
Constitutional Convention, The Bill of Rights
Samuel Barber, Essays for Orchestra
Aaron Copeland, Appalachian Spring
Tony Rice, Backwater
It humors me to see those who rode a wave of adulation into public office now get to work with the reality of a wisely crafted representative system. Winning an election to public office in the United States does not mean that one has now been given a mandate for the exercise of power. A President is not a king, but the chairman of the committee. A senator is not a Lord, but a State’s representative ostensibly promoting the interests of that state. A representative in the House is not a nobleman, but a messenger of the regional concerns. Election to office means that one has been trusted as a public servant. And the public has a mixed notion of what it deems suitable … hence the battle of ideas and intentions and language in getting a bill passed.
Our founding fathers observed first hand man’s inclinations toward totalitarian power. They built a system that would immediately grind to a halt if there was fundamental disagreement about why a law is needed or how it should be structured. And if some in office choose to be an obstacle for others in office because there is a disparity of conviction, then I’m all for it. There is safety in gridlock.
Today’s Influences and Soundtrack:
Founding Fathers, The Declaration of Independence
Constitutional Convention, The Constitution of the United States
Constitutional Convention, The Bill of Rights
Samuel Barber, Essays for Orchestra
Aaron Copeland, Appalachian Spring
Tony Rice, Backwater
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