Always remember that it is impossible to speak in such a way that you cannot be misunderstood.
–Karl Popper, Unended Quest: An Intellectual Autobiography (1976)
Always remember that it is impossible to speak in such a way that you cannot be misunderstood.
–Karl Popper, Unended Quest: An Intellectual Autobiography (1976)
So first I need to take time to look into my own self, to find in myself a willingness to be vulnerable, honest about my own story, its roots and its past, confronting the reality without attempting to escape into fantasy or nostalgia. For when I am attentive to where I am standing, I will also be attentive to where the other is standing, and only then will I be truly prepared to listen to them. There is nothing more important than this. It sounds so easy. Yet it is demanding, and essential, for it is fundamental, foundational. It means listening, the totality of listening, not only with ears but also with eyes.
—-Esther de Waal, To Pause at the Threshold, 2001
If you’ve visited this site very often, you might have noticed that I love to post photographs. They are usually of something that has captured my fancy, perhaps something slightly whimsical.
But I haven’t put up very many of late because my camera has developed a big problem: it has no clarity. It comes with a wonderful feature known as autofocus. That feature is malfunctioning or just plain broken. All the pictures come out looking fuzzy.
Afflicted with my own bout of the same, I haven’t been able to decide whether or not to send it for factory repairs. Finally the other day, I just declared that it would be silly to send it off for $80+ to be fixed when I could buy a new camera with better features for $130. Yet, when I went to the store yesterday the model I desired was out of stock.
And so, we wait. I will get a new camera and I will take more pictures that I post here to help show bits of my world.
Now if I could reach the same level of clarity about my own status…
Stay tuned. There is definitely more to come!
Aesthetics studies new ways of seeing and perceiving the world.
–Wikipedia on “aesthetics”
In the early morning just as the sky loses its blackness, a bird sings outside my window. It is a beautiful song that has many verses. Characterized by trills, slides and confusing dynamics, the singer’s throaty gusto awakens me. He seems to be ushering the day in with true gladness of heart. Not stopping for the light he goes on and on. I confess that often I doze off in mid-song, missing a portion of his glorious performance. But he doesn’t seem to mind as my presence is not essential to his desire to sing. He sings because…because why? I don’t know. Is it because of his genetics such that he just can’t help himself? Is it a stimulus-reaction so that as the darkness recedes, he finds his beak opening and the notes pouring out like Pavlov’s dog salivating when the bell sounded? Or is it love of the day, love of the chance to do all that the new day offers again that he find no better way to express? It’s difficult not to anthropomorphize.
I wish that I could express my gifts with such exuberance indifferent to audience, indifferent to all but the determination to perform the act.
For whom does the bird sing? For himself? For his mate? For other birds? For God? For me? I don’t know what passes through his little bird brain in those wee hours of the morning, but I am indeed grateful for every note as his is a song I love.
True faith is not assurance, but the readiness to go forward experimentally, without assurance. It is a sensitivity to things not yet known. Quakerism should not claim to be a religion of certainty, but a religion of uncertainty; it is this which gives us special affinity to the world of science. For what we apprehend of truth is limited and partial, and experience may set it all in a new light; if we too easily satisfy our urge for security by claiming that we have found certainty, we shall no longer be sensitive to new experiences of truth. For who seeks that which he believes he had found? Who explores a territory which he claims already to know?
–Charles Carter, 1971, QFP, 26.39
I walked twice today…twice! Getting back into the swing of things after a long winter’s gap. It’s not that I never walked during the colder months, but it was much more difficult to motivate myself. Now, though, the weather is perfect.
Along my usual route this morning, I came upon a grocery cart. It was sitting along the sidewalk on a back street. As soon as I spied it, I remembered having first seen it months ago. In all that time, no one had returned it to where it belonged.
Why would that be? Someone must have pushed from the store that owned it. Perhaps it was someone who needed it to get home but couldn’t make the return trip? Or maybe it was hooligans that rattled that thing a mile and then just left it lie? Or maybe someone just didn’t feel like taking it back? I don’t know.
As a witness now to that cart sitting in the wrong place for such a long time, I feel partly responsible for it. I mean it says the name of the store it came from right on the handle, so I could return it either by walking it back or by putting in the trunk of the car. Why should I just leave it on the street? Would it be that much of a hassle and take that much of my time?
What else is community responsibility but acting on something that needs to be done when you see it? I often think I should carry a garbage bag when I walk to pick up the considerable litter that lines the street, especially after one of our windstorms. Sometimes I find an article of clothing or some accessory lying in the grass and think I should try to find the owner. I do at times pull the errant weed but I didn’t plant flowers in the sidewalk gaps yawning in anticipation last year.
I don’t seem to take action very often. The diffusion of responsibility is great in a neighborhood. It seems that we would more likely to take action when something is for intents and purposes “in our own backyard,” doesn’t it?
What thoughts do you have about doing what you see needs to be done? Why do we or don’t we act?
I’m all ears…
Don’t forget that the organizational meeting of Listening to the Blues will be held Thursday evening, 7 May, at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Boulder from 6:30-8:00 p.m. in the St. Paul room on the second floor of the Hall. If you plan to attend, please send me an email in advance; I’d like to have an idea of the numbers.
Planted on Earth Day, just one week ago et voilà! Look what happened.
Now please help by thinking “Pesto! Pesto! Pesto!” to help these basil babies along.
All together now, “Pesto!….Pesto!….”
When I was young and the snow would hang around, folks would it say it was “waiting for more.” And it might be true, I suppose. Perhaps some climatological circumstances that keep the snow from melting on the ground (could it be cold ground temperatures?), might, in fact, be indicators that more snow is possible. It might be.
And so as I walked around yesterday, the fourth day of wonderful weather of balmy temperatures following the wet snow dump of last weekend, I had to wonder about the small dirty snow mounds that I saw. Are they waiting for more, as if there are reinforcements on the way? Or are they just trying to avoid the inevitable but not wanting to change? Or are they sad that they are still solid wishing that they, like all of their snowflake friends before them, would transform into something new and different, water?
Would it be possible to listen to the snow? Or is that just going too far? What do you think?
No, it’s not something destined to go from Earth to outer space…it’s a seed germinator made from a chocolate cake container! I put tiny little rows of lavender, rosemary and basil into this (hopefully) cat-proof box, added water and closed it up. With holes in the top and holes in the bottom, there should be enough air flow and moisture movement. Will they actually take off, er, I mean, grow?
We have to wait one to three weeks but you’ll be the first to know!