October 5, 2017



















Just back from a walk down to the Red River. A narrow path gilded by autumn leaves. Through a grove of conifer and assorted deciduous trees. Approaching the water just as the orange sun goes down behind the trees on the far shore. The whole scene touched with an invitation to wonder. Punctuated by the plaintiff calling of a dozen or so Canada Geese. Noticed a smooth flat rock by the water's edge. Approached and stepped up. A solid anchor as my soul longed for flight. Away from the madness now looming large in our human awareness. Many continue to avoid facing truth by pursuit of diversion. Even these are clearly touched by an anxious wondering about what is to come as we go forward.

I did not want to sit here tonight. Seemed a rather pointless exercise. What can my voice say that is not already said by a thousand voices? Voices from East and West. North and South. Voices young and old. Voices of all timbre, pitch and intensity. Every day another rising into public hearing. Then another. Each and all painting a clear picture of the dilemma now in the wings. The many voices saying one thing. Wake up! Change your way of thinking and acting. Abandon the structures of exploitation and domination. Step into the creative adventure of freedom by which the restless striving of power after power is overcome. Start where you are. Converse with persons open to new imagination of inherited circumstance. Think of Frodo. His companions from home and abroad. Their quest in the hope of restoring balance. The healing of creation and our living in it.

For the past while I have been sketching bits and pieces of experience along the way of my life. My concern has nothing to do historical details. My hope is wholly grounded in the possibility of provoking others to re-examine personal priority and commitment. That some presented word, phrase or sentence may trigger thought in the reader. Like throwing pebbles into a pond. Watching the ringed ripples of each tiny stone. Their overlapping. Their reaching the shore and rippling out again. The sharp smack of a Beaver's tail. The rush of Heron wings taking flight. Conspiring to whisper deep appreciation. "In spite of all its sham and drudgery, it is still a beautiful world." A fine line from a poetic reflection on meaning and purpose; from Max Ehrmann's "Desiderata".

I will persist in my life's timeline. My transcendent experience in the Rocky Mountains shifted my centre of gravity. The past is no longer my master. A voice calls me to follow in the way of life. That voice sounds from the future. Every day it sounds a little clearer. What I began in faith is taking on substance. But I will not run ahead. Tomorrow I will recall the beginnings of my new life.