The messiness of Original Sin

Messiness won the evening, for the labyrinth stays as is, atop the desert floor. Last evening we continued to place stones atop the ground, that is after Bro. Juniper heard my plea, and even Bro. Clarence thought the drifting sands would add to the visual appeal, and then pointed out the fatal flaw in the test course of stones that are even with the surface -- drifting sand would soon cover and obliterate the entire labyrinth. Bro. Juniper smacked himself on the forehead, something so obvious had escaped his (and our) thinking. With that resolved, we went to work placing the stones, and in the twilight I found myself considering the Garden of Eden story again. Of course everyone seems to latch onto the idea of Original Sin and won't let go, the believers spin and weave in attempts to make sense of the idea, while nonbelievers point to the unreasonable idea that a god would take the misdeed of an innocent and make the innocent guilty, and further, punish the guilty, and atop that, punish all humankind forever more. I think both sides fail to grasp the symbolism of this story. First of all, without humans, not only does the concept of good and evil not make sense, but in all of nature it is absent. In all of nature (apart from humans) only "good" and "nothingness" exists. Bad doesn't exist, for everything in nature seeks to exploit it's own potential to live and replicate. That either happens or doesn't happen. You might think of all nature as one big organism that exists, and exists only because each part that makes up the "all nature" live and die to provide another part of "all nature" with food to do the same. Nothing is "bad" because in "all nature" adaptation to prevent extinction is the only goal, and total extinction would be the only "bad" possible. Yet again, even extinction couldn't be "bad" in a humanless and Godless "all nature," for in such a universe, everything just is. Or just isn't. No matter. For to matter requires intelligence to create the idea of mattering and not mattering. Now back to the Garden of Eden, this metaphor explains the need for intelligence, for awareness, for self awareness, before the ideas (and concepts) of good and bad/evil to exist. Adam before gaining knowledge of self awareness (or if you prefer, evolution before the brain/mind developed self awareness) was as innocent as a Tiger pouncing upon a lamb and ripping it to shreds for a meal. Without self-awareness "pre-humans" did whatever was required in order to live another day and replicate. After self-awareness (Original Sin) humans became aware of their every action and the consequences of these actions and further became aware that life and replication at whatever cost was no longer possible, for the new brain/mind was not only aware of each action, the consequences of the action, but also if the action was good or bad. And for the first time "bad" had a meaning other than failure to survive, the human brain/mind continued to develop this concept of "bad" until it became a powerful force that identifies all that which would or could harm the individual, the family, the group, the environment around the group, and today the entire earth. These are things that no other life/creature can think, humans not only think, but can act upon these abstract thoughts. And so Adam and Eve with full self awareness watched as their sons fought and one became a murderer and the other a victim of murder. Good and evil sprang to life as if it were an entity, a concept so powerful that not one human can return to that Garden of Eden, that blissful and ignorant state of innocence. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder and it was Bro. Simon, "Are you practicing mindlessness again?"

Neat vs Messy

The labyrinth project has slowed much since the thermometer has caught our full attention the past week, but today with some thunderstorms, the mercury has peaked at 99F, so Bro. Juniper has called for volunteers for this evening, so far only Bro. Simon, myself, and Bro. Clarence (but he conditioned his service if Bro. Sedwick will also pitch in). We shall see. I would say the labyrinth is perhaps 60% complete, but I'm not holding my breath, for Bro. Juniper has been doing some experiments, instead of placing the stones atop the desert floor, I saw him digging a shallow test trench and placing stones so that they are flush with the desert floor. As the stones are placed now, he thinks the blowing sand will build up on one side or the other, but with the stones set into the ground, this would not be a problem. I must admit, I never considered it a problem, for I think that the drifting sand only adds interest to the labyrinth, and further, that the constantly shifting winds will keep the labyrinth a perpetual work in progress, just as sand dunes are constantly in motion and never appear the same. Well, maybe this evening I can present my feelings on this matter, for I think Bro. Simon will agree with me, but I fear Bro. Sedwick will side with "neatness" as I fear Bro. Clarence will too. Perhaps I could talk Bro. Charles into joining us, normally he keeps to the library, but neatness isn't one of his strong suits, so a sandy and "messy" labyrinth may be to his liking, and also one more vote against the neat camp.

You may have a point

Bro. Clarence was relating one of the discussion he had with a fellow who gave him a ride across parts of Arizona, the discussion centered around the fellow leaving the church as a teenager when he came to the conclusion that many of the Biblical stories were simply unbelievable. He said it was almost laughable to think of the garden of Eden with a tree of knowledge and the forbidden apple of good and evil and that by eating it Adam brought evil into the world and all of humanity has suffered since. After a bit of discussion, Bro. Clarence thinks that he caused the fellow to rethink some of his early teenage thoughts after he explained the Genesis story something like this.

For a moment consider the Garden of Eden story as metaphor for the great consequences of knowledge, for with knowledge one's innocence is lost, forever. We all delight in watching the innocence of toddlers, and protecting that innocence, for that is the want of most parents. Of course we don't want to protect children from the real world forever, for we know the consequences of trying to do that, so we measure our protection and little by little the child is exposed to the world outside the protection of home. So perhaps you can read the Eden story as mythology, a myth with great value, for it tells us much about ourselves, and helps us to make sense of the world around us, a world that can be a world without innocence. Bro. Clarence said the fellow's first reaction was, "Myth?!" And related how his childhood Sunday school teacher said everything in the Bible was fact, so Adam was a real person, Eve too, the garden, and all the rest. To which Bro. Clarence replied that in the synoptic gospels Jesus nearly always spoke in parables, so is it so hard to believe that God spoke to Moses with metaphors, making a simple plot with a cast of characters into a story that could be immediately understood by everyone? And the beauty of symbolism is that children read a simply story that they can remember, teenagers read a story that fills their head with questions, adults read the story and suddenly find deeper meaning, and wise old men read the story and find answers to the previous unanswerable? To this the fellow replied, "You may have a point."

Then and Now

Then: "Love the Creator, not the creation"
Now: "Love the earth."

Bro. Clarence was fit as a fiddle at the break fast table, and after several weeks in the secular world, he had one overriding observation, the news seems to have turned the words of Thomas a Kempis (Love the Creator, not the creation) into "love the earth." He went on to explain how few in the modern world actually experience "the earth" when they are insulated by all the trappings of modern life. And then he went on to say that maybe if we were living in the 15th century world of Thomas a Kempis we would have very different ideas and experiences about the "creation." Since that time, those living the modern life in the modern world have since birth been protected from that "creation." This evolution of modernity has produced humans that are insulated from the reality of the natural world, and that insulation allows us to view the "creation" in a totally different way than dear old Thomas did. Most modern folks are so insulated from the natural world that they come to think their flower garden as nature. Bro. Clarence went on after telling of a popular television series called "Man vs. Wild" where a super survivalist is "dropped" into the wilds and the viewer watches as he struggles to survive. I think Thomas was closer to the nature of "Man vs. Wild" than we moderns are, and Thomas experienced the harshness of nature, a harshness that in the television show sends the survivalist breathlessly scampering for his life. In the modern community we have reached a stage where one can be born into this insulation (and apartness from real nature) and live an entire life, and perhaps only experience real nature on one's deathbed. It is this insulation and apartness that allows us to be fascinated with the "creation" and to marvel and probe and dissect it in the comfort of the lab, or even the comfort of bringing our artificial environment with us when we trek in the wilderness. Modern outdoorwear, portable and ultralight this and that, freeze-dried food, and an SUV full of stuff. And we read in horror when someone makes a wrong turn on a desolate mountain road, and the car breaks down, and a young family suddenly finds themselves in raw creation -- somewhat like the 15th century of Thomas. I'm sure if Thomas were wrapped in the insulation of the modern world he too would look differently at the "creation", for in the comfort of modernity, he could be like God (or the scientist) and admire the creation, a creation that is viewed, and not experienced.

105 in the shade

Bro. Clarence has just arrived, sunburnt as though he had walked from New Mexico to the Mojave, but he assured me that he is fine and that he hitchhiked the entire way, that is until the last 5 miles, and later will share his many stories once he recuperates, and I might add that I watched him "wolf down" 7 tuna sandwiches while gulping down 10 bottles of water. Yes, the desert will do that to a mere human, it will drain you of your last ounce of strength before you know it, and if you have no plan or escape, water from every cell in your body will desert you and leave your brain in a rather deadly state of panic, overwhelmed by messages and signals from every part of your body, each demanding immediate attention, and the poor mind turns to mush, thinking now a very expensive luxury, thinking, that consumer of far too much energy, energy that isn't to be had, so the thinking mind shuts down while the primitive brain frantically attempts to sort out the mess, a mess that quickly degenerates into a cascade of system failures that terminate far after the thinking mind has taken leave. Well, Bro. Clarence is too smart to find himself in such a state, yet his want to be home as soon as possible caused him to foolhardedly hike the last five miles to the monastery. And it was 105-F in the shade! And Bro. Simon watched in dismay, repeating over and over, "... not wise ... not wise ..."

Wise scientists and wise guys

Yesterday morning a rather road weary jeep appeared near the monastery, and soon two fellows came to investigate the rather strange sight of two grown men, in robes and sandals and woven yucca fiber hats, on hands and knees arranging rocks on the desert floor. After our greetings, we discovered that they were anthropologist on their way to what they think may be a fire pit, which they further think may be quite old and perhaps, or so they hope, an ancient Mojave Indian campsite. After a bit it became apparent that neither of these fellows had any religious beliefs, in fact after inviting them to our noon meal, and at the dining table, we chatted for several hours, and as Bro. Sedwich called them "the doubting Thomas brothers" to which they thought was an accurate description, and we all were amused when I became "Friar See" (because in conversation I was saying, 'I see ...' whenever they would present their side of an argument) and Bro. Sedwick was called, "Father Gull" (as in gullible, and making us the 'seegull' brothers). We did have a good time, and they promised to drop by again sometime next week and report on the fire pit. Well, at the end of the day I think we here at the monastery are still the faithful, and our two anthropologist friends are, one a proud and feisty atheist, the other a somewhat wavering agnostic. Below are some thoughts that I penned last evening, which is a sort of cleaned up version of my side of the conversation.

Science cannot prove nor disprove the existence of God (if 'existence' is the proper word). But to heed Friar William of Ockham's dictum, perhaps science should leave open the argument for the 'existence' of God by simple logic and reason. If I stumble across a twig woven nest, I assume it had a maker. If I contemplate the beauty of a dew laden web, I assume a maker, an orb spider. Hornet's nests, honeycombs, crayfish burrows, eggshells. I reason they all had makers. But I more than reason, I have witnessed the makers of these creations, so forever more I know that these creations were built by a lifeform. So something merely looking as though it were built doesn't necessarily make believers of us, but witnessing like things being built can make us believers. Believers that all like twig structures were built by birds. But how about the complex structure of a cell? Have we witnessed the building of a single cell? Yes. Have we witnessed the builder of that cell? Well, yes and no. What we witness is a seemingly magical progression of events, magical in that the microscopic-aided eye watches the results of hidden events taking place. But with a chalkboard we can symbolize all the various things taking place behind the scenes, the chemistry of it all. The biologist and chemist could say that forces and actions and reactions along with a DNA blueprint all make this seem magical, when in fact it is all a logical progression of events in the building of the cell. So if no one has witnessed God creating 'anything' then one could not use this same logic and say that God created the Universe, let alone, God created the sparrow, or even a single cell or atom. But how about if we peek behind the scenes and instead of focusing on the 'things' build, we consider potentiality. In all the Universe, or as much as we have discovered, potentiality seems to be in all forces and laws and bits and pieces, from the largest to the smallest. Potential seems to be built into all of Creation, from the fundamental forces/laws/matter that the physicists ponder over, to evolution with the realization of that potential in actuality. Potentiality (and implied change) is fundamental to and is the force driving life to actuality. Then the question becomes, can potentiality in ALL exist without God? I think not. A godless universe would simply be accident and happenstance leading to actuality. That is not the universe that I am a witness to. For each morning I awake to the potential of the coming day, and I an active participant in changing potential into actuality.

Working on the easterly path

Yesterday I was helping Bro. Simon place stones and rocks, he working on a westerly path, I on an easterly path, of the labyrinth. Because I was being mindless in my work, allowing the autopilot in my head to place the rocks just as instructed by Bro. Simon, my mind was allowed to wander. I should add that we were working in the cool air of early morning before the rather brutal desert sun would chase us indoors. So here are a few of my mental jottings from yesterday morning.

If it were not for humankind, all would be Truth?

An "explosion" may seem haphazard chaos and a human observing it would see a rather rapid and blurry event and without external sensing instruments, could make no sense of what took place, whereas with measuring instruments, one could "slow down the events" taking place so that it could be possible to reconstruct the entire "explosion" event so that the seemingly disorder is in fact order.

Was the Big Bang an explosion?

What if in that mysterious pond (or ocean) at the beginning, not one inanimate piece of stuff leaped over from the realm of inorganic to organic, but many at that most important of moments. Whatever the defining ingredient (electricity?) of that defining moment, perhaps many tiny bits were energized into whatever it takes for synthesis to make that moment truly a beginning. Reason would tell us that many of the bits that came to life most likely didn't live long enough to replicate, but maybe more than one did, in fact it makes more sense that many did if our pot of soup is filled with just the right ingredients and only awaits the final ingredient. I would think these many bits that came to life would most likely evolve in similar manners simply because of their like makeup. But of course their exterior likeness would soon disappear as they all traveled their separate paths. Which leads me to believe that perhaps the platypus and the crane fly did not have a common ancestor. Most likely a common pre-life list of inorganic ingredients, but a different organic grandparent. I suppose one could argue about commonness between platypus and crane fly, but could not that commonness be from the shaping exterior environment and not necessarily from a common organic ancestor?

And further, that those first assemblages, like assemblages, in a like environment, all became animate and most of all could replicate, then they all share the same common assemblage of parts. Somewhat like a science fair for kids, each kid receives a box with the exact same assemblage of parts, yet each kid puts together entirely different 'things'. Yet on close inspection one finds the common building blocks. Perhaps the environment, I'll thinking on a grand scale, the cosmos environment, steers through the natural laws life on a very narrow pathway.

But no, current science thinks me wrong. Using DNA as a recorder of the history of life, science is piecing together the evidence that all life on Earth follows the countless pathways back to a singular path, to a singular event, to a singular inorganic-becomes-organic event. Which got me to thinking of this most hospitable planet with all the varied chemistry and all the wondrous lightning that electrifies the countless brewing soups of not-yet-quite-life with bolts striking around the clock since the dawn of ages, and even the undersea boiling cauldrons of chemistry soup, and yet still nothing again ever sprang to life? Life is rare indeed. Yet the ever so faithful scientist build huge radio-telescopes, listening to the skies around the clock, do they really think life is so easy to make?

Then Bro. Simon hollered, "Are you still on that mindless kick?"

And back again

Bro. Simon was observing my mindlessness today and as I was lost in chewing a bite of my tuna sandwich, he spoke out loud, not even facing me, but as thought speaking to himself, saying, "When one can look at nothing and see everything and listen to nothing and hear everything, then one will realize the power of mindlessness." Then without another word, he took a first bite from his tuna sandwich, then rose and left with sandwich in hand. Watching all this (I'm afraid in my mindlessness I was becoming acutely aware of my surroundings, almost mindfully aware!) was Bro. Sedwich, who with crossed arms, glanced from the departing Bro. Simon and then back to me, then said, "Thou must be emptied of that wherewith thou art full, that thou mayest be filled with that whereof thou art empty.” He then stood and with his tuna sandwich headed for the door, but paused long enough to say, "Saint Augustine." And I must say, it was difficult to remain mindless for my mind would not let go of those words, but I was able to let them go. That was yesterday, and now today I can mindfully ponder those words, because today they seem to pour into me as into an empty vessel.

A Mindful Experiment

Upon awakening and after the first blink or two, I reminded myself of the mission for the day, to will myself to be mindful with every breath I take. Suddenly I find myself staring at the unlit candle, the candle that just hours before reminded me to abandon my mindfulness. Now as I light the candle and wait for the sun to break the horizon and announce the new day, then I and we will take that cue and celebrate with break fast. But now I'm getting ahead of the here and now. Recently I've been considering vision and sight and the world outside my skull and the world inside my skull and trying to think how they are different, yet the same. I've talked about vision and here I may repeat myself, but as I found yesterday, repetition can be fun! So I repeat what I think transpires when one looks at a candle flame. A kind of miracle that occurs everytime you open your eyes. It amazes me to consider it. Yet again and again I do. Right now in the predawn darkness I am viewing a candle at arms length, burning, and yes the photons from the flame strike my retina and all the rest of the optical mechanics that take place until the electro-chemical coded message is translated in my brain as a dancing flame, but then the miracle continues, my mind takes that interior dancing flame from the mush of gray matter and projects it at arm's length in front of my nose, and the flame I think I see before my nose is actually the 'projected flames' dancing perhaps a nanosecond in time behind the actual dancing flame before my nose. And to complete the trick, my mind makes me think the projected flame and the actual flame are one and the same! Yet the real flame, or I should say, the flame I 'see' is the imaginary flame hidden in the darkness in the center of my skull, a flame sans photons. A black flame? Hmmm, now I'm hungry and must break my fast.

A Mindless Experiment

A day of mindlessness isn't as easy as one would think. What makes it so ironic is that I had to awake and in those first blinks I had to be very mindful of what I had planned for the day, I had to force my mind to let go, and that was only the first minute of the new day. To be mindless one must already have a knapsack full of habits, full of comfortable routines, full of structure that you or others have already put into place. For without all these built-in paths and well-worn trails, one would awake to a world demanding thought and consideration from the very first blink of the eyes. I kept thinking, and like a mosquito, I would slap at the very thought of thought and hurriedly follow the familiar paths, and my first prayer became the Lord's Prayer repeated again and again, for the numbing rote of it caused my normal consideration of each word to be instead a gong of sound, the words became like meaningless notes resonating from the gong, meaningless for a reasoning mind, yet meaningful to the mind entering a meditative state. Hallowed ... hallowed ... hallowed ... hallowed ... hallowed ... and the sound and the vibrations and the meaninglessness of the uttered sound soon startled me when it became a sacred chant that revealed the uttered word, as though the repetition somehow worked like a can opener to cut its way around 'hallowed' until like a punctured can of coffee releasing a wonderful whiff of aroma -- 'hallowed ... hallowed ... hallowed' released a most fragrant sound that was more sacred than even my reading of that word. The essence of 'hallowed' was finally released to me and it was not my mind that was jolted, but my nose! In the still darken predawn chapel I smelled a bouquet of flowers where when the first light of day revealed not a blossom. Well, that was but the first hour of my mindless day today, I now feel too tired to put into words the rest of the day, for I'm cheating while writing all this, I fear this makes my experiment not very scientific, and right now just a candle before me burning and the dancing flame is calling me to dispense with this mindfulness. And I will.

Mindful or Mindless?

My morning walks have gone from mindless to mindful, and back, and forth again. The 'good' mindlessness of our everyday life is what some would call all that which we do on 'autopilot' or the necessity of letting go of control and allowing the parts of the brain to do what they were designed to do, to take care of the million things that our conscious mind would only get in the way of. And of course all that which our conscious mind has no control over, or so we think, all the inner workings of our own body. Sometimes when we confuse who controls what is when we get into trouble, like letting the unconscious mind take care of the heart, and usually that works just fine, we think not of the heart beat and by not thinking of it we have a regular beat, but once we dwell upon it is when the trouble starts. So mindlessness in this respect is something we depend upon to survive. I said before that the goal of Buddhism is a kind of mindlessness, yet the irony is that to attain that state one must practice mindfulness. The Zen Buddhist meditates in a very mindful way, even becoming hyperaware of each breath, seeking to become aware of the moment, or living in the here and now, which sort of shoves the past into the background and leaves the future where it rightly belongs, in the realm of the unknown. Bro. Simon gave me this teaching from Buddha (I think because he has reservations about my thoughts on mindlessness).

Bhaddekaratta Sutta
(Buddha’s teaching on living in the present)

Do not pursue the past,
Do not lose yourself in the future.
The past no longer is,
The future has not yet come.
Looking deeply at life as it is, in the very here and now.
The practitioner dwells in stability and freedom.
We must be diligent today,
To wait until tomorrow is too late.
Death comes unexpectedly,
How can we bargain with it?
The sage calls on the person who knows how to dwell in
mindfulness, night and day.
One who knows the better ways to live alive

And Jesus saying:
Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient for a day is its own evil.
Matthew 6:34

So does that mean we are to be mindless about the future? Or does it mean that we are to practice mindfulness in the present, mindfulness daily, hourly, each minute, each second, and then this mindfulness when approached from a right heart (for too a criminal can be mindful in planning a crime), the good mindfulness of living in the moment, being aware of the moment, doing the right thing each moment, this kind of mindfulness changes the mind and heart in tiny increments, until we find ourselves mindlessly doing mindful things.

Mindlessness and mindfulness

This morning I began a pre-dawn walk that allowed me to follow some meandering trails that lead to no particular place and it was when the dawn was breaking that I began to consider the difference between being mindless and mindful. I suppose one could consider being mindless as allowing your environment to govern your behavior and further that this would be a less than satisfying state of being, but in Eastern spirituality, I'm now thinking Zen, this mindlessness is considered a positive, in fact, isn't that the goal of Buddhism? To become so mindless that the governing environment and you become one. (I'm thinking of environment in its broadest sense, physical, mental, natural, artificial) So one forfeits one's apartness for unity with the all. Yet being mindful is when one seeks to understand the environment one finds oneself in and then seeks to understand it and in the understanding seeks to make ones behavior guided by this understanding. That is, mindlessness is allowing your environment to guide your behavior, mindfulness is seeking to guide your behavior by understanding your environment. Mindlessness seeks unity. Mindfulness seeks apartness. Hmmm, as I was returning to the monastery, these thoughts seemed to swirl before me, and I must admit, both seem attractive. For break fast Bro. Simon fried up some tofu that was dipped in egg and sprinkled with lots of pepper, both black and red, and I became very mindless and just took everything in.

Feeling of rightness

Alas, I've been away for a few days and upon my return I have found that the labyrinth project had been in disarray, for I'm told that Bro. Juniper had changed his mind when he felt the rock and stone labyrinth wasn't taking shape as the imaginary labyrinth that he had constructed in his mind, which after much discussion he was able to persuade the other brothers that the care and placement of each rock and stone would make all the difference in the world, for the former piling of rocks in a sort of jumbled manner gave the appearance of not love and care, but haste and carelessness, and after constructing a sample of what he had in mind, that is, he carefully laid similar sized rocks (a bit larger than fist size) in a short course to demonstrate his vision. I should note that he wanted the natural desert varnish of the rocks to be face up, in other words, the rocks when placed would have the similar surface color which he feels helps to keep the course of rocks in harmony and from having a "spotty look" that would distract the eye. I'm told that the other brothers agreed after taking in his sample course of rocks. So you can imagine the extra work of removing all the previously placed rocks and stones, and then on top of that, Bro. Juniper personally going through the piles and making selections and rejections, with Bro. Sedwick volunteering to take the rejected rocks and stones and returning them, in a natural manner, back to the desert, meaning that each be placed with the desert varnish facing up. Well, I returned to find the labyrinth, the new labyrinth, about twenty percent completed, and my first view was at sunset and I must say that I'm amazed at the difference, and am thankful that Bro. Juniper not only recognized the errors of our ways, but held to his vision and I can see now that that vision is worth the extra effort of all. Bro. Sedwick added that anything worth doing is worth doing right. Which gave me pause to ponder what exactly is right and knowing the rightness of what one is doing or about to do, yet mediating upon the sunset light upon the varnished desert stones I feel the answer within, the rightness of anything we do is when we do it and live it in God's shalom, and only then does our feeling of rightness become real.

A journey right here and now

I must admit the race may seem a bit futile, but I've noticed many of the brothers have been walking over to a thermometer that is mounted on the side of the tool shed to sort of verify that indeed, summer is fast approaching. But back to my race, a few of us have decided to construct a labyrinth on a rather flat patch of dry and crusty earth right outside the east wall, a sort of replica of the Chartres labyrinth, only this one is being constructed from collected rocks and stones. I would guess the diameter being about 100 foot, maybe even larger, for Bro. Juniper did all the calculations and for a couple of days was there with his kite string pegged to the center and scratching circles onto the ground. Then he went about stretching string across the entire area into a grid, for his reference drawing of the Chartres labyrinth he has also drawn a grid upon. Then with the drawing in hand, he went about, with a can of white spray paint, spraying reference points, then after that, began spray painting the entire Chartres labyrinth onto the desert floor. All that took about three days. Then taking turns with the wheelbarrow, each of us began the gathering of rocks and stones, with instructions from Bro. Juniper to make sure they are large enough, yet not too large, and not too small. Well, our mountain of rocks and stones is growing, and all the while Bro. Juniper is carefully placing rocks and stones, one by one, atop the white lines. I would guess that the labyrinth is about twenty percent complete. But even now it is becoming an impressive sight to behold, especially in the twilight when the rocks and stones reflect the waning light after sunset. I should also note that Bro. Clarence has been away for several weeks, he departed on a journey to research desert building materials, he is keenly interested in straw bales.

Of birds and scientist

Bro. Juniper was explaining to me how bird nests are tiny histories of the local flora, for the birds collect whatever twigs to construct their nests from the local supply, so that the nests collected a century or two ago may contain twigs from trees and shrubs that no longer grow in the area. Most of America has been invaded (or evolved?) with non-native plants since the migration of Europeans, so a nest collected in the mid-1700s may have twigs of trees that have since disappeared, well perhaps disappear is too mysterious of a term, for there is no mystery, the pioneers felled the trees to "clear" the land, to make room for farming. So while these hardy pioneers were chopping the trees down, the frantic birds were like tiny scientists, hurriedly collecting specimens before it was too late.

Before it is too late

Extremely busy. Bro. Sedwick deemed that the warming globe will produce a devilishly hot summer, and with little time left, he had us go to work cleaning and repairing all the swamp coolers. A most devilish task, indeed, especially the ones atop the roof. So far I have collected six very well constructed nests which I gave to Bro. Juniper, for he is a nest collector.

Just Imagine

Last evening many of us were seated around the large table, still in the courtyard. Just enough light for a few of us to thumb through some books of quotes and still be able to read the tiny print, although Bro. Simon lit a candle and let it drip a bit before affixing it to the table top (I should note that the large table was constructed years ago from heavy raw cottonwood planks and the surface is now as complicated as a topography map with scars and markings that have become our history). Before long those of us with books were seated beside Bro. Simon, and with but candlelight were able to find several quotes that stirred our imagination.

"Imagination is more important
than knowledge, for knowledge
is limited while imagination
embraces the entire world."
-- Albert Einstein

"Hope lies in dreams, in imagination
and in the courage of those who
dare to make dreams into reality."
--Jonas Salk

I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge --
that myth is more potent than history.
I believe that dreams are more powerful than facts --
That hope always triumphs over experience --
That laughter is the only cure for grief.
And I believe that love is stronger than death."
--Robert Fulghum

"Imagination is the eye of the soul."
-- Joseph Joubert

Nor do I hear in my imagination the
parts successively, I hear them all at
once. What a delight this is!
All this inventing, this producing, takes
place in a pleasing, lively dream."
--Mozart

"Only in men's imagination does every truth
find an effective and undeniable existence.
Imagination, not invention, is the
supreme master of art as of life."
--Joseph Conrad

"The man who has no
imagination has no wings."
--Muhammed Ali

In His Image, In His Imagination!

Isaiah 11:6-9

Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; The calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them.

The cow and the bear shall be neighbors, together their young shall rest; the lion shall eat hay like the ox.

The baby shall play by the cobra's den, and the child lay his hand on the adder's lair.

There shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the LORD, as water covers the sea.

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All week Bro. Juniper has been carefully painting with a small, narrow brush white paint atop the numerous chalked poems and quotes that now cover nearly every inch of the concrete floor of the dining hall. The grand wooden table and chairs are all still outdoors in the courtyard, but now with the rapidly rising desert temperatures, we decided that our days of meals outdoors are numbered. It seems we all have been reluctant to move back into the dining hall and erase with our sandals the spontaneous outpouring of chalked words to earth that we all delighted in doing for a short few days. I'm afraid if we had a larger expanse of concrete floor we would still be marking the earth with imaginations. Imagination. That got me to thinking, for if we had no imagination, then this life and this universe would be a terrifying place indeed. I have already described the reality of what takes place within ourselves, and all around us -- violence! If one were to take a microscopic look into our own body, and the same close-up view of our immediate surroundings, one would be shocked at the countless wars going on, wars of survival. Yet we humans were given by God imagination. Just as Isaiah imagines a peaceful kingdom, we go about our daily lives with imaginations of peace, and these imaginations keep us from returning to the animal state. If we can imagine peace, we can move toward peace, we can even become peaceful, even while dwelling among the unpeaceful kingdom that surrounds us. Don't sell imagination short. Imagination isn't self delusion. Imagination isn't fantasy. Imagination isn't untruth. Imagination is what motivates the scientist, as well as the artist, as well as the theologian, as well as the little child. Thank God for being created in His Image, in His Imagination!

Violence begets violence?

Matters such as "violence" and our response to it as humans, as children of God, as Jews or as Christians, is a constant "battle" in our minds. And how ironic, our minds must battle thought in order to quell our troubled actions. I believe "violence" was an evolutionary necessity that got us to the point of evolving from animal to human, where now as humans we can look at all other creatures yet cannot condemn them for their every moment of their life of violence, for violence is survival -- the tiger brings down the gazelle, the hawk takes the hare, the trout the caddisfly -- it is God's way for creatures to survive. But by the breath of God we became human with minds that are self aware and imaginative and are capable of figuring out how not to live violently. Yet here we are, with some of that DNA that still carries the violence of the animal kingdom, yet stamped with the image of God that gives us the potential to be peaceful humans. And so with that war within us the question becomes, will we be guided by our genes, or by God's want for us?

May Day!

This morning I found that the large wooden dining table and all the wooden chairs are now in the courtyard, I fear the dining room has been transformed into a huge chalkboard! This one caught my eye, for someone had chalked William Blake's poem in a spiral, the word "I" begins in the center and around and around the words go! I wish I could duplicate the spiral poem here, but the message is revealing enough, I have been pondering it all morning.

I laid me down upon a bank,
Where Love lay sleeping;
I heard among the rushes dank
Weeping, weeping.

Then I went to the heath and the wild,
To the thistles and thorns of the waste;
And they told me how they were beguiled,
Driven out, and compelled to the chaste.

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen;
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And "Thou shalt not," writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.