Dear schalk: The stories you tell are the kind I love and participate in as my real life takes me to Walmart or the grocery store. Random meetings. This is the latest one and I will try to write it without becoming emotional. First I want to start with the boy scouts that lost their lives today and the re-actions of those that lived. I sat and bawled with those children. The older I get, the more this happens. It is because I am older and because there is much to touch us to the core.
I may have cried harder for the boy scouts because of what happened here weeks ago. Five young boys who had graduated from different highschools here and had already started college at the same and different places came home for the long week end. One of the parents had given their child a car, I think a BMW that would really
move. After a party, the five went to a private air space here where people live and shelter their own planes. They took off at the end of the runway, picked up speed and more speed and then were airborne and crashed into a tree. All were killed.
At the first funeral, grandson (Daniel again) was a pall bearer. The ritual had started and the music and the incense and the friends who were altar boys were already to come through the door and join the congregation (packed from every faith) who were into the ritual, ready to keep that rhythm as planned to the end. The casket was next with the young pall bearers and before the Priest got thru the door a scream like none I have ever heard came blasting out of the mother who had just seen her boy come thru that door in a casket. She screamed and screamed and screamed.
I wonder if she will ever make sense of anything again. We will never ever forget her, no matter what Father has planned to say, no matter how much the ritual never misses a beat- no matter. We were changed. Our knees wobbled. There was not a dry eye and we were holding that for later.
This is not a great example in so many ways as to what we can always expect when anyone presents anything. And in another way it is a really big example. Usually,
people will line up on two side of the speaker. (In this case your presentation). The debate will start. It is a psychological phenomonon (sp). Happens every time. And that can be a good thing. This time however, the interuption was so gut wrenching,so authentic and one of those interuptions that will not go un-heard. At the funeral.
In a way, it feels sometimes that there is no room in Proposals but a tied up tight plan that must be followed and maybe I do not want to learn discipline with such an expert and there are more around, knowing that I will mess up somewhere. And then I would squelch something not nearly as earthshaking and authenic as that scream but I will squelch something. I have never researched this kind of thinking so that I can discuss it much differently. I just know that I will be content to read what you write and not participate freely and authentically.
And another personal note is that I am more inclined to lose the discipline I need to live the day in such a way that everything is a prayer without it being some big rule.
I don't think of it that way but I find for me that If I start "putting my hands on everything" I begin to pull away from my time alone and quiet and before I know it, I having more drama, more indecision, more confusion that is self inflicted - as if I have just run off from my most dearest Source, my most dependable Need, my most Surefire way to really have a good day and recognize the good in the day if I am having a bad one. And guess what. I am totally addicted to Inquiry. I started dropping into mediatation that way. I have to read before I sleep. At least until I learned not to. And so there are times when I am glad I feel tougue tied and cannnot participate. Sometimes I experience the gaps that get longer and longer. And I depend on my teacher image, my story telling image. It just gets worse all the time.Not being an Image. I have learned that in the gaps, the mistakes, the mess-ups is where the real stuff happens. I have enjoyed Congress so much when they are into the ritual, being polite etc. and then someone like Senaltor Byrd will become so outrageous, you want hang around. And then there is the other part that bores the hell out of all. And then there are times when I wish they would fire most of the Boomer Press. So many rude statements. Big Bad words- not too much Beauty.
Chis Matthews, "I like to pull back the scab" Go to hell Chris. And then I change the channel. So I feel the Beauty you speak of is missing in these times (By the way I thought Hillary was splendid and she made them wait and they trashed her so bad about that. She was moving with her rhythms-knew what she needed to do.) I am scared I even said that. No more politics, not now.
Jokes on me. No really most of the time, I flow fine but don't worry about me getting disciplined. Come stand in my shoes and then we will see! And sometimes it is not nearly as much fun as it would be as it would to learn the discipline of what you are suggesting. It almost felt insidious to me that you would even suggest that. Me learning some discipline. or Us.But then we do not know each other that well- yet. We can neglect that big time on line and just make everyone up. Sometimes. I wil be there when I can and it may work out that I will be there more.
Lastly: Have you considered blogging since the subject seems very broad and could go for a long time. I have not even thought tht through but as someone said -your speedy response is amazing. Later - Love Pattye PS. My daughter found Daniel sitting on his bed when she came home that day, his face in his hands, tears that seemed would not stop. He said, " Mom, I have to go to four more funerals."