Bible Study

Joan has a cousin who attends “Bible study” each week. It helps her feel better. Many of us have such literary touchstones. I reread a bit of Terry Pratchett before bed. For others it has been Shakespeare, or Austin, or even trashy novels.

I’ve been aware since young adulthood of the various odd forms of unlocking intuitions and centering the self. I’ve watched tarot cards perform magic. I’m sure the same was true in ancient times when divining meaning from flights of birds or sacrificial entrails. Intuitive truth is rarely found with logical analysis. 

The only issue I have with “Bible study” has nothing to do with whether it is valid for those who do it. I’m sure, like other intuitive focus activities, it works well. And the Bible certainly has enough contradictions, comments, admonitions, fables, and ideas to satisfy any need. Plus a large dollop of historic belief, which brightens its aura. 

All that bothers me is a tendency of Bible users to try to rule me with their divinations. No tarot reader ever tried to do so, nor any reader of entrails. I respect the methodology of the users, but only for the users. 

Somehow, any holy writ study often leads to a literal “holier than thou” aggression. It is not enough to merely center an individual _ such folks often preach. I reject that. 

In the right circumstances, for the right user, any mantra or meditation will work well. That doesn’t mean it should be adapted by everyone nor forced on society. 

Of My Time

When we have lunch with our peers, I am reminded of those old Victorian drawing room clubs where retired military and bureaucrat gentlemen would gather and remember their grand old ideas of the empire as it once was. Alas, gone in these topsy turvy modern days. And, of course, all for the worst … 

Now I’m not quite so activistically nostalgic. I’m glad I lived through the times I did and the way I did but the world always changes. Life goes on. Some of it greatly better, some of it not so much. 

I don’t so much resist as ignore. I can leave my cellphone for long stretches, I’m not  constantly reacting to the internet. I take it slow, read, think, look around. I’m fortunate to be able to do so. 

At a slower pace, this civilization remains a wonder to behold. So many marvels we take for granted. So many big issues being handled (like food, electricity) leaving us free to complain about trivia. The human comedy parading before me all the time. 

But when we gather friends for lunch – no, none of that. Everything is bad and getting worse. Bragging and complaints about the family – probably a universal concern since the first hominids invented language. 

I just smile (vacantly?) And feel the sunshine warmth.  

Wild Rodents

For the last few weeks, as I walked down the driveway to retrieve the paper and bring in the trash can, I’ve noticed a scene from an old Disney cartoon playing on the front lawn. Grouped in the shade of our large Japanese red maple tree, a gathering of local cute wildlife. Three chipmunks, two squirrels, a small rabbit for all the world appearing to enjoy a quiet tea party .

As they see me, they scatter, each in their own ways. Chipmunks scurry into nearby underbrush, squirrels scramble chasing each other up the tree trunk, the rabbit more sedately hops to the far end of the yard. Kind of neat .

Squirrels, chipmunks, and rabbits are not much of a problem around here, even if they eat a few flowers. Most of us would certainly rather enjoy them than find a snake, mosquitoes, or raccoon. A lot better than a rat pack. Not quite as astonishing as a brilliantly colored bird .

That any wildlife survives and even thrives in crowded suburbs constantly amazes me. I’m grateful of course, and happily use each sighting as a point of current contemplation. It’s important to not treat such miracles as a boring commonplace. I’m quite happy to share the planet, (at least with the ones I like, most of the time. Mea culpa) .

Our environment is a much better place with a certain diversity of life forms. Probably a little less machine ubiquity .