So, you want to fly?

"One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar."  -  Helen Keller

"The moment you doubt you can fly you cease to be able to do it."  -  Peter Pan

     We have a guest author for today's reflection - Rico Byam.  I met Rico aboard the Schooner Heritage out of Rockland Maine.  The lessons in his story are self explanatory.

CHALLENGED

     In over fifteen years of flying and taking people for rides, no one, other than an examiner, has ever asked to see my airman’s certificate . . .until now. There in front of me stood this petite, blonde, ten-year-old deaf girl asking me, through her interpreter, if I had a license. Her name was Ashley.

     I was working as a volunteer for Challenge Air, a non-profit organization that makes aviation experiences available to physically challenged individuals who might not otherwise have the opportunity to fly in a small plane. The local coordinator, John Lawson, had asked me to teach ground school on this beautiful, sunny, summer day in July 2000, and I agreed.  However, I was caught off guard, after one ground session, when Ashley asked if I would fly with her. I told her I would be happy to and started making the necessary preparations to leave my station and fly. But, before we headed out to the plane, she had a few questions. 

     Now, most people would be satisfied with an affirmative answer, concerning whether or not I had a license, but Ashley was thorough. She asked if she could see it. Obligingly, I pulled my airman’s certificate and flight instructor’s certificate from my wallet and showed them to her. She seemed satisfied; however, she had one more question. She signed to her interpreter, very quickly and quite intensely, something that made no sense to me, whatsoever. I looked at her interpreter and asked what Ashley wanted now. 

   “She wants to know if we can fly upside down.” 

     That was an easy one. I looked directly at Ashley and shook my head a definite “NO!” 

     She stared at me for a moment and then signed “OK.” I took that to be the end of negotiations, and we were off. 

     Ashley’s interpreter climbed into the back seat, good sport that she was, and I strapped Ashley into the right seat of John’s Cardinal. Although she could barely see over the panel in front of her, Ashley strained to see where we were and where we were going. There was no fear, just an intense desire to have the experience of flying an airplane. I was impressed with her curiosity and willingness to try something new. 

     During the takeoff roll, I motioned to Ashley to start pulling back on the yoke, as I crossed my arms over my chest. She looked at me with ever widening eyes, pointed at herself questioning, “Me?” I shook my head yes and made a gesture with my hands to show her how. She pulled timidly at first, but I kept making my signs of pulling on the yoke until she had enough force to get the airplane off the ground. I made a sign for her to look out of her side window. She seemed to stare out that window for the longest time, but when she looked back in my direction, the grin on her face would have put a Cheshire cat to shame. Ashley was flying!

     We climbed and turned and descended. I kept making signs for Ashley to push or pull or turn one way or another, all the time keeping my arms crossed over my chest, helping her with my feet. In her mind, she was doing it all, and that’s the way I wanted her to remember it. Her inability to hear was in no way an inhibition to see the world as eagles do. It made my heart soar to bring this experience to someone like her. I almost said “yes” when she asked again if we could fly upside down. I was enjoying myself as much as she was. After landing, the three of us had our pictures taken together in the plane, and then I went on to fly a couple of more folks who spend most of their time in wheelchairs. 

     With the day’s activities wrapping up, I was securing John’s plane when Ashley and her interpreter came over to say goodbye. I shook the woman’s hand and then looked at Ashley, expecting some sign language to express her gratitude. No hand signals this time. Ashley walked right up to me, grabbed me around the legs, and gave me the biggest hug she could. I didn’t need an interpreter for that one.

     For any pilot who has flown someone for the first time, there is no need to explain the feeling that goes with it. But for me, this went a step further. This child lacked the ability to hear and experience the roar of the airplane’s engine, the wind blowing past the windscreen, and the constant chatter on the radio that makes the experience complete for the hearing passenger. However, what I saw was a desire to experience

something new and not be limited by one missing sense. Her enthusiasm and joy were written all over her face and in her body language. Even her signs to her interpreter showed excitement and enthusiasm. I was thoroughly impressed with all of it, so much so that I took classes in American Sign Language. I wanted to tell more people like Ashley what it is like to fly above the earth . . . then, I wanted to show them.

Thanks Rico !!

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Make it a great day !!

David

Think you got it figured out?

“The price of inaction is far greater than the cost of making a mistake.”  -  Meister Eckhart

“Our actions – and inaction – touch people we may never know and never meet all across the globe.”  -  Jacqueline Novogratz  

  

  Living an awakened life is not unlike weaving a tapestry. Turn a tapestry over sometime.  The reverse side, the side where all the work is done, resembles little more than a tangled maze of knots.  If we are following the path and trusting God to show us the next right thing to do, God will use us.  But we never get to see the full picture - we will go to our grave having little idea of the full implications of the actions we took in this realm.  But sometimes we do see a part of the picture – sometimes more clearly than we would like.

     I recently stopped in a town close to where I had just written a story, and found a quiet spot to sit for a few minutes.  I was convinced that I would be moving on down the road in search of another story momentarily.  A spiritually connected local man intuitively knew there was someone he was supposed to meet and sought me out.  Two weeks of remarkable experiences (and thus stories) resulted from him having put forth the effort to find and meet me.  He later said that he almost hadn’t listened – he almost hadn’t “shown up and sought me out.”  I wondered what it was that made him so willing to follow God’s intuitive nudges.  Later he told me a story that is quite instructive.

     Twenty five years ago this man had gotten a nudge that he refused to follow.  He has been involved for years in the prison ministry and has helped numerous men get on their feet after release, including many that he allowed to live with him in his own home.  One evening several people were getting together to play some music, one of them being a man that had been released not so long before.  After the man didn’t show up at the appointed hour, he felt a strong urge to go to the man’s house and check on him.  In spite of the notion being strong and recurring, he wanted to be with the guys that were playing music.  So he let it go.

     Later that night it bothered him, and was still troubling him the next day.  While he was at work, news came over the radio that there had been a murder-suicide in the town.  The radio did not release any names or details, but he knew in his heart it was that man.  He called the coroner, who he was friends with, and got the confirmation.  Late the night before the man had shot his wife and committed suicide.

     The next weekend he went to a spiritual retreat at a Christian camp.  On a wall hung a painting of Jesus.  He was struck to the core as he looked into the eyes of the image.  There was no margin of error in the message that shook him – God said “You need to listen to me and heed what I say when I ask you to take action.”

     Later, after the couple was buried, the man’s son came to visit and gave him a painting his father had done.  Written below the man’s name on the back of the painting are the simple words: “Died 7/10/1990” followed by the name of the town.  (The painting and the text on the rear are the image at the beginning of this reflection.)

     That painting hangs prominently on a wall that this man cannot avoid seeing as he leaves his house each day.  On another wall is a saying that in part says “I will never again have the opportunity to live this day.  What price will I pay for it?”  Every day since he has decided that he will follow that voice, and indeed, had he not, he and I would never have met.

     Being of the Christian bent, some of the words of the bible speak clearly to him.  Be hot or be cold, but don’t be lukewarm or I will spew thee out of my mouth. 

     The message for me in this was clear.  I work hard to hear the voice clearly – in fact I put myself in hazardous life situations with perfect peace and comfort because I have found that what God leads me to he will lead me through.  I talk often of the serenity and joy that come from the journey.  I talk about all of the marvelous things that come into my life as a result of following the intuitive voice and the guidance of others who are connected.  But I don’t talk about the things I miss or the negative consequences that result from the times I choose to ignore the voice.  I have been blissfully unaware of them, but it might not always be so.  If I am going to offer myself as a channel to God I had better remain willing, because it might not be just me who pays the consequences when I choose to ignore the call.

Today may I be reliable. 

  

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Let's be where our feet are today !!

David

Are you worried yet?

Cutler, Maine

“The enemy is fear.  We think it is hate, but it is fear.”  -  Ghandi

“Too many of us are not living our dreams because we are living our fears.”  -  Les Brown

     July 4^th weekend just passed, and I was sitting in a lobby editing photos from some small town parades in Maine.  One thing I was struck by is how there were many people participating in and attending the parades, but I had not seen one police car or policeman in either of towns I had been in.  As I worked, one of those 24 hour “news” channels droned in the background.

     A news item caught my attention.  “Authorities were on high alert over this July 4^th weekend, and although we didn’t have any major terrorist events, there was a scary incident in New York City” the announcer said.

     It seems a man had slipped past security and climbed atop the Brooklyn Bridge.  There he had committed an atrocious act – he took a “selfie.”  “Luckily for New Yorkers he wasn’t a terrorist” said the announcer, and introduced a policeman from New York.

     He agreed that they needed to tighten security because this “could have been a terrorist, and matters could have been much worse.”  The announcer wrapped up the bit by saying “Thank goodness it wasn’t more serious and hopefully there is swift justice for the man who “potentially could have jeopardized us all.”  A man takes a selfie and he is a threat to “national security.”  In the land of the free and the home of the “brave,” and in doing so he “could have jeopardized us all.”  Wow.

     There is a constant onslaught by those who would profit by having us live in fear.  It permeates the society.  It is hard enough for us to live in trust and faith with the fears that our own egos generate, let alone the constant assault from all quarters in our sound-bite society.

     Actions speak much louder than words, and I can tell you that in rural Maine people are not looking for a surrogate “father” to protect them from their fellow man.  There are hundreds of towns where resilient people believe in and depend upon their fellows.  We are well served to be keenly aware of the constant subconscious assault of fear we are exposed to and remember to not allow ourselves to be lured too far from reality.  

Today, may I be realistic.

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Make it a great day !!

David

So, what do you want me to be?

Jonesport, Maine

“Nationalism is an infantile disease.  It is the measles of mankind.”  -  Albert Einstein

“All of nationalism can be understood as collective narcissism.”  - Geoff Mulgan

     Yesterday was July 4^th, and whenever there are national or religious holidays I take pause to think about the origins and the meaning behind the occasion.  I was born in the United States, and with the exception of a couple of short visits outside, I have been on this land my entire life. 

      In my youth I was full of fervor and believed what I said when we would recite the pledge of allegiance in school or at Boy Scouts.  But my enthusiasm has waned considerably over the years.

     I have watched war after war come and go, and in every case we find out – long after the fact – that we were lied to and manipulated by those that profit from war all along.  I have watched the heads of industry yank the jobs away from the people who built the business and give them away overseas so they can make a few extra dollars.  I have watched the media cover the secrets of those in power and the wretchedness of those they want to support while they exploit decent folks for headlines.  I have watched the political arena change to the point that a politician has to sell their soul to the elites long before they get anywhere close to power.  I have watched those that control the dollar wheedle and scam our currency to the point that it is only held up by thin air.  I have come to realize that those who are in power – those that shout the nationalist themes the loudest could care less about their fellow citizens.  The only thing that matters to them is their own power and wealth.

     Not long ago I was asked if I would “fight for my country.”  “Absolutely not” I replied.  But if there must be conflict, I would show up – as a paramedic, as a chaplain, as an ambassador – anywhere I could be of service to try to assuage the misery caused by the cowards who started the conflict for their own personal gain.

     But it goes way beyond this now.  I have come to realize that I am a spirit experiencing a human journey.  There are many other spirits in the same realm also experiencing journeys – this realm we call “Earth.”  And what I find is that as soon as I join one group or another and identify myself as such it is at the exclusion of others.

     Those that want me to “Be an American” want me by extension to be hostile to whomever it is popular to be hostile with that year.  Those that want me to be a “___________” – fill in the blank with whatever religious or political term you want – want me to profess beliefs that make me “exclusive” because now I affirm that they have the “right answers” and everyone else is “wrong.”  And as soon as I am "in," I am expected to demean and belittle others.  Sometimes it is overt and sometimes covert, but it is always there.

     I will give anyone who is trying to better themselves the shirt off my back and the shoes off my feet.  It is not a question of my love for my fellow man.  It is just that I no longer am a “joiner” – I am not going to identify my spirit, my own self-identity with other mortal’s transient and exclusive notions.  Because as soon as I say “I am a ______,” I am always secretly saying that “I am not a ____” with the hidden inference that whole groups of other spirits are inferior to me, and in many cases I am saying that they are unworthy of this human experience altogether.  This is beyond sick thinking – this is a disease of the mind.

     I am a child of God.  I am a spirit having a human experience.  I know very little, and as I grow and experience I am getting skeptical about the remaining few things that I think I know.  Beyond those couple of things, I am very hesitant to say I am anything.

Today, may I be pure of heart. 

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A tale of two me's.

Passamaquoddy Bay, Maine

“If you do not conquer self, you will be conquered by self.”  - Napoleon Hill

“I came to learn that God never shows us something we aren't ready to understand. Instead, He lets us see what we need to see, when we need to see it. He'll wait until our eyes and hearts are open to Him, and then when we're ready, He will plant our feet on the path that's best for us...but it's up to us to do the walking.”  -Immaculee Ilibagiza

     I was recently asked the question:  “What is the difference between when you are living in God’s will or your own self will?”  I am not at a level of spirituality that I could give anything close to a complete answer, but I can make some observations.

    There are really two questions here – there is the difference as I feel it in the moment and the difference in the outcomes that I can only see in retrospect.  

     In the big picture, I can say that following the intuitive voice and the guidance of others who work to connect brings me things of lasting value.   I am never “late” nor am I ever “early,” I am where I am supposed to be all the time.  I am not only able to meet calamity with serenity, there is no more calamity.  For example, today I locked my keys in my car – and of course I had an appointment to be met in a short while.  My first thought as I shut the door and realized both they and my wallet were inside was “Ok, God, who am I supposed to meet in the process of trying to get back in the car?”  Soon enough, a fellow came along who had a piece of wire and we were in the car.  A conversation ensued, and a few things he is struggling with came up.  We agreed to meet Sunday, I left and the “appointment” I was now late for showed up just after I did. 

     If this were an isolated incident I would be grateful for my “luck.”  But it is not – these things happen numerous times each day when I am following God’s will.  Often when I ask for guidance it is the thing that I don’t want to do that God asks me to do.  Two days ago this was walking away from a place where I would be fed, had a bedroom to use and a shower available.  I could easily delay moving on to the next town for a day – besides it was raining.  I quieted myself and got the answer to move on.  I called a man who mentors me to get his input, and he said without hesitation “You have got to go.”  I did, and as a result I met a professor at a university that I would not have otherwise met, and we had a conversation on a spiritual level I have never had before.

     Meaningful coincidences about when I am in God’s will – one of the “trail markers” God gives me is the number 1111.   When I am in that “zone” I will see it constantly – even on broken clocks.  When I am running the show I quit seeing it.  There is much more – to those that have not been in that zone or witnessed these thing through one who is I would risk making you think I am manufacturing stories by going on.

     On the other side of the coin is self-will.  Besides all the meaningful coincidences being gone, there are other big signs I am in self-will.  The first is that I immediately start wanting more – more of everything.  It might be better camera gear, a better vehicle, more food, more money, more friendship, more more more.  And I start plotting about how I can get these things I “need.”  And when I do get them, guess what I want?  Still more. 

     I start catching myself projecting into the future.  I start having conversations with people who are not present.  By that I don’t mean schizophrenic conversation – I mean that I start practicing what I am going to say or re-playing old conversations in my head.  I find my thoughts on tomorrow, on next week, next year or beyond, and either start scheming grand schemes or decide that what I am doing isn’t worth it.  I start looking for the “hidden meaning” in what others say, sure that they are manipulating things to their benefit.  I get judgmental, and I start holding grudges.  Soon, if I am not thinking about the future I am rehashing the past and either beating myself up or nursing resentments.

     It really is this starkly black-and-white.  God’s will gives me peace and meaning.  Self-will gives me fear, guilt fantasies and anger.  God’s will gives me a deep appreciation of my fellows – I feel I can connect with them at the deepest level possible.  My will has me sick of people in general – myself included.

     Yes, on a regular basis I find myself heading back into self-will – I want to be the director of the show.  But today I do everything I can to catch it quickly, and when I realize I am I DO NOT beat myself up.  I once again accept that I am a human being living on a journey over which I have little control, I laugh at myself and I do whatever it takes to get back into positive action.

     Skeptical?  Get on your knees and ask how – quit asking “give me” and start asking “show me.”   Then quiet yourself, do the next right thing and the next thing right and watch what happens.  God always shows up.

Today, may I stay the course.

Be present for life today !!

David

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My gun's bigger than your gun !!

(Fort King George, Darien Georgia)

“One with outward courage dares to die; one with inward courage dares to live.”  -  Lao Tzu

“The fear of death follows from the fear of life.  One who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”  -  Mark Twain

     Upon finding out that I live on the road, folks sometimes as:  “So, what are you packing?”  a question that assumes I carry a gun along with me.  

     The whole notion of carrying a gun while working to live in God’s will is rather profane to me.  On the one hand I say that I am trusting the guidance I get from God, but then I turn around and say:  “Well, God, I trust you a lot but just in case you fall asleep on the job I am going to trust this little mechanism that propels high speed projectiles.”  And what of my willingness to ask God where I should park and sleep, who I should talk to – why should I worry about asking God what I should do next when I have a Colt 45?  I can handle my business just fine – and I bet if I had a 357 Magnum I could handle it even better.  

     A recent occurrence in my hometown has made me reflect on this decision a bit.  It seems that a fellow walked into a church there, and after being welcomed and attending a prayer meeting, he pulled out a gun and killed nine folks.

     I have read articles since stating that many churches are now enlisting law enforcement types to carry concealed weapons while they pose as ushers.

     The question seems apparent – if those folks were seeking God’s will – seeking to connect with God in a place they consider their sanctuary and got killed, what is to stop the same from happening to me?  After all, the road is my sanctuary and I assume that killings in the public domain are a lot more common than folks being slaughtered in church.

     But once I allow fear to come into my heart and question my trust in God, where does it stop?  I left two years ago on this journey with a 100,000 mile van and less than $200.  I really should have lots of money and a new van.  Or motorhome.  That would be safer.  Or stay in hotels.  Asking questions in towns where no one knows me is pretty dangerous.  Perhaps I should only go where I am invited.  In fact, why embark at all?  I might as well just curl up in the safety of some domicile I deem appropriately “safe.”  In fact, I had better just pull the curtains shut and watch some Faux News program so that I don’t run into any psychopaths like the guy that shot those folks.  My gun will protect me and I can experience life through the boob tube.

    I don’t know what my path in this life is supposed to be – it unfolds daily.  How could I possibly be so vulgar as to assume that the folks in that church didn’t follow exactly the path they were supposed to? For me, the road is my chapel, it is my sanctuary, it is where God speaks to me and where I am willing to be vulnerable enough to listen.

     

     One thing seems certain – this life thing is a terminal condition; I am going to die.  Who am I to say I know what the best circumstances are for me to die under?  And even if I could know the cause, the day and the hour of my inevitable demise, why would I want to know that?  That would be an incredible burden to carry.

     No I won’t be getting a gun.  Besides, even if I did and thought I needed to use it, I would probably just get all nervous and shoot myself in the foot. 

  

Today, may I accept life on life’s terms.

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Remember me?

“The best way out is always through.”  -  Robert Frost

“Success doesn’t come to you, you go to it.”  - Chris McLeod

     Recently I spent a week in a small island town in the northern-most reaches of coastal Maine.  Because of torrential rains, I had the opportunity to sit in the library and read about the town for several days.  What unfolded was a story spanning several centuries of a people that got knocked to their knees with regularity, but always rose and found another way to sustain a viable community.  One might argue that by being on the ocean this town has resources that others do not, but there are other towns along this coast that had things going at one time or another and today are all but dead.

     Whole industries went under, terrible weather paralyzed the area, fires ravaged the entire community and still the community persisted.  I read the story of one of the town’s sons whose father died in 1859 - when he was nine years old.  At fifteen he struck out for the Midwest and landed a job as a farming implement salesman.  The farmers didn’t have any money, so he started trading tools for crops.  Two years into the venture, his warehouse burned and he found himself without insurance and owing $1,800.  He took another job for a while and within a couple of years he had paid back every penny and was able to open his own business again.

     He became proficient at getting the crops to market, and by age 40 he owned more grain than anyone in the world – businesses or individuals.  The man donated the library I was using back in the 1890’s.  In a binder of his history I read passing mentions about how all manner of folks had told him he couldn’t succeed, and yet he quietly persisted.  And that was what all those people ended up – a footnote in a binder that doesn’t even mention their names.

      As I sat in a small bar and grill writing an article about some of the people who are once again reinventing this town, I heard a few locals talking about how these men were messed up in their thinking, how they were on the wrong track, how they would never be able to make these new projects last – on and on it went.

     I got thinking about the various books I had read about the locals that had pulled this town through hard times over these last few centuries.  They have a few things in common with the people who are making things happen today.  These are people who show up when things need doing.  They are people who are not looking for personal gain or glory, they have the interest of their fellow citizens at heart.  When told that others are appreciative of the things they do, they want to minimize their role and talk about still others who contribute.

     This comes on the heels of having returned to Charleston to say goodbye to a lady who was dying of cancer and was a giant in that community.  She died last week, but was lucid and able to communicate when I was there.   Her primary concern while she was facing death?  That good would come out of her passing for others.  Regrettably I could not attend the memorial service this last weekend, but I am told it was a powerful event.

     I am saying all of this because as I travel I see more and more that there are strong links between humility, tenacity and legacy.  Those that accomplish things of lasting value seem to be primarily concerned about the welfare of their fellows.  And those that are remembered fondly are those that have given of themselves, those that have been good stewards of the things that came into their lives.

     So, as I sat in that tavern listening to the nay-sayers, I felt something I have never felt for them before.  Always before I have wanted to speak up, to argue, to prove a point, to get them to see things differently.  But this time I just looked on them with sympathy.  I realized that they are on a trajectory that takes them completely out of the tides of history – a generation or two from now and it will be as though they never lived. And, in reality, by staking their identity on the failure of others they really are not living at all.  And soon I had entirely forgotten them – I was once again pondering those that have contributed and those that are facing the community’s current troubles head-on.

   It is one more demonstration of why it is so important that we force ourselves to live in solutions rather than living in problems, and one more reason that we should know that if we want to love God we first need to love our fellows – even the ones whose negativity is leading them into oblivion.

Today, may I know love.

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Make it a great day !!

David

So, you wanna help me?

Myrtle Beach, SC

“Doing the will of God allows no time for disputing his plan.”  -  George MacDonald

“The only expenditure, and all its outworkings, for which God can be held to be responsible is that which he directs.”  -  Amy Carmichael

      I am learning that there are distinctly different modes of being helpful to my fellow man.  There are niceties, service and then there is following God’s will.

     We all perform niceties.  I define a nicety as doing something for someone else that they are fully capable of doing for themselves, but I am making a conscious decision to do it as an act of kindness.  This may be mowing someone’s yard when we know they are busy, taking care of their pets when they are away or any of thousands of others.  The thing with niceties is that if I have expectations of some payback or if I have the subconscious notion that somehow the person is going to be indebted to me or think I am a hero, the end result of having done it is that I feel worse than if I had never done it at all.  Niceties are great for building relationships, but they must be expectation free.

     Then there is being of service to others.  I define service as doing for someone else what they are incapable of doing for themselves.  Service may range from something as mundane as teaching someone how to garden to performing hospice and allowing them to die in their own home with dignity.  With service, I have developed expectations, but they are not anything like they used to be.  When I perform service for others, I always gain the benefit of clearing space in my own head and attaining perspectives that were previously out of reach to me.  So my expectation of service is that it will create a gap large enough in my thinking that I can hear the intuitive voice or that I will distance myself enough from my current circumstance that I will gain perspective.

     Although I am convinced that it is “God’s Will” in an overall sense that I perform both niceties and service, there are other times that I get the clear intuitive message to help a specific person.  For some reason I am usually reluctant when the situation presents itself to me as I already have an agenda going that I am convinced is “God’s Will.”  But every time I follow that prodding, God replaces whatever I thought I had with something much better.  Examples abound; here is a specific one.

     I had myself lined up to do a story on the airplane pilots who tow the advertisement banners along the coast.  I wanted some aerial photos of Myrtle Beach to go with a story, and although the planes fly out of my equipment’s range when they are towing, I could get some shots as we headed out and came back.

     I was lined up to fly with a fellow at ten am one morning.  That morning I got up and went to a meeting at a local church I had heard about.  At the meeting I met a fellow visiting from out of town who was there trying to help his mother out of a fix she was in.  It was clear I was supposed to take some time with the fellow and talk to him, but this meant losing my chance to go up in the plane.

     I reluctantly went ahead and spent the time with the fellow.  We walked on the beach and I listened to him for an hour or so, and was able to share a bit of experience I have had with similar situations.  At 9:30 the banner company guy called and said there was a problem with the plane and he wasn’t going up.  The fellow I was with caught on to the conversation, and asked me about it.  I explained it to him, and he said “My uncle flies helicopters out of here – right up the street.  Want to see if he can get you up?”  45 minutes later I am up in a helicopter getting the close up shots of the main drag that I wanted.

     Now, we can say this is coincidence, but when it happens every time and time after time at some point we exceed the mathematical bounds of what we call “coincidence.”  When God calls me to do something specific and I follow through, he gives me a much better outcome than what I thought I was missing out on.  So I guess I have developed the expectation that when I am called on to do something, God knows my needs better than I do and will more than take care of them.  Am I setting myself up for disappointment?  Well, I have not been disappointed yet, and that makes me even more eager to do God’s work.  Maybe, just maybe, expectations are not always a dangerous thing.

Today, may I be willing.

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Make it a great day !!

David

When running in circles is a good thing . . .

 "You cannot outgive God." - unknown

 "Skepticism is the beginning of faith."  -  Oscar Wilde

     A big revelation came to me a few years back when I was sitting in an intensive care unit with a critically injured friend.  I had been told he was not going to live through the night, so there I sat in a room utterly quiet but for the clicks and beeps of the large array of life support equipment.  In the middle of the night it dawned on me that at this stage of the game all this fellow had was what he had given to others.  It also struck me that he had not given very much.  So I resolved that from that point forward I we merely a steward of the things that came into my life and that from then on I would give freely of whatever is in my possession.  What I have found, time after time, is that you cannot out-give God.  

     Since that occasion, I have done much work to clear the noise out of my head so I can hear that intuitive voice and be of service in the ways that God wants me to.  I give a recent illustration of the circles of giving that result when we realize these things and take action on the intuitions we are given.

    I drove past a restaurant in the Outer Banks of North Carolina and had that intuitive feeling that I was supposed to stop there.  I turned around, drove back, went in and asked if I could use the Wifi. They gave me the password and let me use the end of the bar.  Before I was done writing that days article they closed, but told me they would leave on the Wifi and let me use the upper deck.  (Which overlooks the Atlantic Ocean on one side and the Croatan Sound on the other.)

     The next day I felt moved to do an article on what it take to run a restaurant in a summer vacation area, as the area I was in gets very little traffic besides the three summer months.  So I returned and interviewed the owners, which actually turned into a long conversation about how their spirituality has evolved, their relationship with God and all the things they are grateful for.

     In the process of this conversation a woman with a small child in her arms hesitantly approached us.  It turns out it was a waitress who was supposed to be coming in later that day for her first day on the job.  She said that she had a conflict with care for the child, and she would be fifteen minutes late, that she hated that but would it be ok?  The owners said it was fine, the woman looked relieved and left.

     Later, as I sat editing photos a couple visiting from Pennsylvania sat down beside me. The were upset because they had to return the next day and couldn't see the lighthouses because of the rain.  I asked them if they would like to see every lighthouse from Nags Head to Florida, and then showed them each one along with photos of the people who care for them and old stories about them.  They asked about my work, so I showed them what I am doing.  When they left the woman hugged me and gave me ten dollars.  "It isn't much," she said, "but I want you to have it."  I only had a couple of dollars and needed both cigarettes and gas, but as soon as she handed it to me I knew I was supposed to give the $10 to the new waitress.

    That evening I was interviewing a local vacation rental property business owner on the upper deck, and the new waitress asked if she could get us anything.  It was still raining and we were her only customers.  We got an iced tea, and after our meeting concluded I got up to go to another meeting I was attending.  It gave me the chance to give the new waitress the $10.

     Late that evening I returned to edit that days photos and write.  I sat up on the upper deck and as I got ready to start working, the woman who owns the restaurant brought me a huge plate of food, a pitcher of water and a greeting card. 

     On the inside of the card it says:  "Please use us as your "homebase" while here in the Outer Banks  - Rest and let us fill your water and cook for you."  Inside the card was a $100 bill.

    I want to make it clear that this story is not about money. I share this circumstance because it illustrates the bigger picture so clearly - when God asks us to give and we listen, we are repaid ten times over.  In this case because it is money it is easy to quantify the repayment. When we are following God's will, what is asked of us doesn't usually involve money.  We are asked to give kindness, an empathetic ear, understanding, solace, encouragement or more often assistance of one form or another, and were are given back the same many times over.   Usually, the circle doesn't close this quickly or apparently.  But the circle always closes.

    The important thing is that we follow the intuitive nudges with action and without using the occasion to put conditions on things or develop expectations. Then we watch the long term outcome of our decision with a discerning eye and and see if what others have told us about the spiritual path is true.  And for me, constant skeptic and previously staunch atheist, consistent demonstrations of that power at work over a long period of time have been the only path there could have been for me to attain the trust and faith I enjoy today.

Today, may I follow the nudges.

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Have an awesome day !!
David   

Where are you off to?

"Stay off the Buses !!"  -  Unknown

"If you want to find God, hang out in the space between your thoughts."  -  Alan Cohen

     A few weeks back I sat listening to a fellow talking about how he finds quiet within.  He envisions that he is sitting at a bus station at an oasis in the desert with buses coming and buses going.  (Buses represent trains of thought.)   He explained that a bus will come into the station and before he knows it he is ten miles down the road out in the middle of nowhere.  

     I have a friend that laughed about a train of thought that a pain in his knee that come on suddenly a while back.  He was walking across the kitchen and felt a sharp stabbing pain in his knee.  Between the kitchen table and the refrigerator, his thought process went from awareness of the pain to his uncle who had a knee go bad at about his age to the fact that his uncle died shortly thereafter to the notion that this all meant that he too was going to die soon.  You may think that example is extreme, but is it?

     On the road I find myself drifting and having to pull myself back all the time.  It can be as simple as trying to have a conversation with someone.  I find myself planning what I am going to ask or say next instead of really focusing on the person and the ideas they are trying to impart to me.  I can get stuck in the sand in the van and within five minutes have myself so worked up that I am doubting myself, doubting God and doubting that this life has any value.  

     I can get on whimsical buses too.  I can smell, see or hear something that reminds me of childhood circumstance, but after a few fond memories I am soon thinking about how I shouldn't have done this or should have done that - stuff 45 years ago !!  Meanwhile there are birds flitting about, flowers blooming, people interacting - a while world of opportunity that fades into obscurity while my neurons belch out sagas of negativity.

     It seems that every bus, regardless of what direction it seems to be starting off in, ends up taking us out into desolation - grandiosity, self pity, yearning desire, remorse, obsession - or any one of the other destinations that our heads take us to when we are not living in this moment.  The buses that run into the past seem to arrive at destinations like false pride or remorse.  Buses that run to future destinations seem to always end up in places with names like fantasy or anxiety.  

     Yeah, thinking can be of  value.  But have I ever had an original thought - one no one else has ever had?  When I look at my thoughts critically, I find that they are not the quests of abstraction that I fantasize they are.  Detached examination reveals that for the most part they are merely excursions into distraction.  For the most part, thinking is overrated.  I think.

     So, maybe - just maybe we can spend today sitting at the bus station without feeling the need to climb on any buses.  And when we realize that we have unwittingly climbed on one bus or another and find ourselves out in the middle of the wasteland, we don't have to try to analyze how or why we got on the bus.  We can just make the conscious decision to debark and get back to the only destination that is real - right here and right now.  And in the quietude of that space we just might find the clarity and the guidance we crave.

Today, may we be present.

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Carpe Diem !!
David

Who's got your goat?

       

      (If you do not get the daily articles I write, go to www.captureamerica.co or email me and I will add you to the mailing list.)

"Every time we are disturbed, no matter what the cause, there is something wrong with us.  If someone hurts us and we are sore, we are in the wrong also."  - William Wilson

"I refuse to give others rent-free space in my head."  Debbie DeJong

     A while back I stopped into a fish packing plant to take photos and gather information for an article.  I arrived shortly after daybreak - besides the owner and the manager, none of the other workers were there.  They had two boats to unload that day, and prospects were good for getting photos that accurately depicted what the work was all about.  About eight o'clock the workers arrived and started getting ready to unload the ship and pack the fish for shipment to auction.  Work soon commenced, and I was able to capture each step of the way.

     Within an hour it was clear that they were short handed.  Baskets of fish that needed packed in boxes were backing up, and I heard the owner ask a local crab fisherman if he felt like working in the packing house for a day.  The fisherman told him no way - his work was hard enough.  I asked if he wanted me to help, and with a relieved look he asked if I would start shoveling ice.

     There were over 7 tons of fish that had to make their way into big cardboard boxes, and I started shoveling a layer of ice into each empty box, then putting a layer of ice atop the fish after they went in, then packing down the ice and putting lids on the boxes.  We finished that ship about noon, and right on its heels another pulled up to the dock.  This one was finished about four pm - so I had shoveled ice steadily for at least six hours.

     About four thirty I sat down - a good bit worn out.  After a few minutes the ice delivery truck came and I walked over to get a few shots.  "We have work to do around here" said the owner.  "Haven't you gotten what pictures you need yet?  Its time to move down the road" he said to me.

     I was initially a bit surprised, but maintained my composure and merely replied that I just needed a few more shots.  I hung around for another five minutes or so, took a few photos of the delivery truck and went on my way.

     Now, I had not asked for money, and even though it is always in short supply on the road I felt more like I was just doing the right thing by helping than expecting to be compensated.  But as soon as he said that the thoughts started - I could have easily fired off my mouth and developed a long term resentment against this man.  And my resentment would not have hurt him a bit - he would have laughed about how he got over on me for some free labor and then booted me down the road.

     Yes, people do and say things that can get our goat - and we can feel fully justified in our resulting anger.  But we have choices.  I choose to believe that others are doing the best they can with what they have.  I believe we are spirits having a human experience - each with our own path.  Yes, our paths cross, but our journeys ultimately are solitary affairs.  And when someone "wrongs me" like this I can look at the underlying spiritual laws and feel empathy for them rather than anger.  You see, if I give freely, you cannot steal from me.  And even if you could, everything comes full circle like a boomerang and you will pay your own price for your deceit - whether you ever become aware of it or not.  On the other side of the coin, I find that I cannot outgive God, and when I give freely of myself I always receive more than I gave.

     And so I bear no grudge for this man, and I don't have any thoughts that I wish I hadn't helped him or hopes that somehow he is retaliated against.  I am free to move down the road, and in fact later that very evening a man asked me if I wanted some work repairing a dock.  He paid me well, in cash, and several times over the next few days people went out of their way to buy me meals with no prompting from me.  I am free, but if my experience from my days of spiritual sickness are any indicator, he is still convinced that he has to do unto others before they do to him.  I don't wish that on him - it is a lonely and miserable way to live.

      Each of us is capable of and responsible for maintaining our own peace of mind.  We each alone - as an individual and fully by ourselves - determine if we live in peace or chaos.  Let's do ourselves a favor and choose to live today in freedom.

Today, may I opt for peace.  

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