Some asked how…

While I was in practice ever so often someone would ask “how do you do what you do? Listening to all you do and not go crazy?”  I asked myself that on occasion. Back then, my response was likely a goofy look ‘I don’t really know’.

Maybe it was the disassociation I learned as a kid living with the outbursts of my father. At times I would go on to explain that in my profession if I don’t follow the counsel I give to others, my life doesn’t work any better than anyone else’s. Over the years I’ve learned some things that helped me care for me—things that lift my spirit such as….

I am a reasonably creative guy which expresses itself in a number of ways.  I like photography (I have over 60,000 on my Mac).  I take photos of all sorts of things—people, places and things.  I keep pictures I come across on the internet.  It is not unusual for me to take near 2000 photos on one of our trips—then editing, sorting and deleting is fun too.  I enjoy gardening/landscaping.  In the spring and summer you may find me at six in the morning on my knees weeding in the garden.  I am a decorator/designer when it comes to our home or my offices.  As most know, I am over the top decorator at Christmastime. I collect things—glass hearts (I utilized in group meetings), stamps (have not viewed for decades), carnival glass, Heritage crystal from Ireland (prettier than Waterford), as well as other handmade art pieces.  I have my grandmothers postcard collection, granddad’s pencil and political button collection and even a small barbed wire collection given to me when we lived in Texas. Some would say I collect books—ok, I admit it. Books are like a Pendleton blanket to me. They provide such comfort, humor and connection.  We have a small collection of First American/southwestern art along with hand crafted jewelry from places out west. 

I enjoy museums.  One of my favorites is the Booth Western Art Museum in Cartersville, Georgia (yes, GA).  It is the best in the country—or next to it.  Western art in Georgia?

Reading is a favorite escape.  When I read I picture myself sitting down with the author—they are ‘friends’, some of which lived years if not centuries ago.  When Henri Nouwen died tragically too soon, I regretted that I had never got off my duff to go meet him.  I had read many of his books feeling a definite connection.  What I did do was find people who had spent time with Henri.  Even one step away felt closer.  I made a promise to myself that should I read another writer that brilliant and not go spend time with them it would be no ones fault but my own.  

So when I discovered Barbara Brown Taylor’s writings (I have all her books) a client was able to get us into an alumni gathering at Sewanee University.  She was presenting the Dubose Lecture.  Barbara speaks just as she writes.  Her topic was Learning to Walk in the Dark: Negative Theology for Emerging Christians.  There were three lectures, Scary Angels, Night Guides and Treasures of Darkness.  The lectures eventually became a book.  

Then in 2005, via a co-worker, I stumbled across Richard Rohr.  Two of my book shelves hold his writing and lectures.  Some may think I worship the ground Richard walks on, I told him at a conference in Louisiana (titled Talking to Trees) that I did not—BUT, that I did have a deep sense of gratitude and appreciation for him, his life, his writings, his example.  

Barbara Brown Taylor spoke of solar theology which is what we’ve all come to know—always focused on the light, leaving the darkness, staying in the light—even God IS light.  Her lectures were her insights about ‘lunar theology’—about the darkness at times in our own lives throughout our journey.  We’ve been taught that dark was evil, to fear the dark, even to demonize the absence of light. She spoke of ‘daymares’.  It’s true that the dark is not always ‘friendly’ but there are treasures in the night—once you get your night vision.  One saint asks “what is more helpful to wisdom than the night?” She reminded us the darkness was the only thing that was not created.  It was there before all else.  Sit with that awhile.  

We helping types, we counselors, therapists, ministers, spend our days helping others deal, make sense of their darkness— to keep walking even when it is dark.  We helpers stand in the shadows offering assurance they will be okay.  There are priceless treasures, priceless lessons buried right where they are. Hearing all the life stories we have over the years bolsters our assurance that it will be well.  

It is about light and darkness.  Before the beauty of all flowers their seed is planted in the darkness.  What starts in the dark, needs the light too.  

The sun by day, the moon by night.  Lessons from lunar theology are all around us.  They’ve kept me going, may they do so for you.