Raised on the high flat plains of eastern Colorado, I love the smell of wild sage brush and the sight of pale blue sky from horizon to horizon. Our regular visitors were not people, but blizzards, hail storms and tornadoes. Ten miles outside of a town population 100-ish, part of my own historical context is the rural culture and geography. The way urban and suburban people think and make choices are very different from rural folk. I consider myself a farmer still, even though I’ve lived in the city for the last twenty-plus years. It’s my point of view.
My native language is – Map. Maps are compilation of nodes and routes. Nodes are essential elements that are connected by routes, even alternate routes. When you speak, I usually have a map show up in my head. I’m listening for your nodes and routes, less often your destination. Road trips are journeys filled with detours and discoveries. Many unrelated features are connected by odd routes.
Cooking fresh food and building bread are lively activities. I think food is aesthetic and functional. Real food for bodily and spiritual satiation, created in community. If I cook and no one eats it, I’m bummed; it’s a gift from my soul. We probably won’t be sharing recipes here; I probably don’t have one written down. Fixing food and bread-making become artistic expressions of what is at hand and in my cupboards.
I’m a science head. Chemistry is a huge part of what goes on in the kitchen, as my friends and kids will tell you. It’s also a huge part of my faith. Spiritual descriptions and concepts continue to morph the more I learn about quantum science and the more I experience God.
Love books - especially their Table of Contents. That’s where I get the framework of the ideas the authors intend to develop. Authors’ faces, gender, or credentials aren’t as important as the ideas, information and answers to questions. Yes, then I do read the book.
Words matter to me. Ideas matter to me. Words represent ideas. We’ll talk about that as we go along. One example is the words choice and decision. Typically used interchangeably, they are not equal. In a pile of colorful M & Ms, I can choose a green one. That’s simple. If I decide on a green one, I’ve cut away or eliminated the others, probably for some reason. Same result, much different process. If you choose to love me, I feel totally different than if you decide to love me.
I love questions – especially the question: Why? (I’ll post my poem, Why, in a few weeks.) I believe questions function to keep the parameters of any issue porous. No hard capsule of opinion can confine an idea if questions are allowed.
· What if . . . ?
· Have you considered . . . .?
· What reason is . . . ?
My life has been a series of turning points. As I walk along life’s path, I observe and learn, all the while moving forward toward uncertainty. Who among us knows our future? Then, either by circumstantial or internal crisis, I arrive at my Turning Point. Sometimes I pause, then continue to walk on, but, oh my, life is different. At least my perspective is changed. From this new point of view, my walking practice is altered. For me, life is a Labyrinth. Not intended to confuse like a maze, but composed of turns and learning that equips walkers (me and you) better for this journey.
Let’s talk as we walk.
