Finding our way to The Way one situation at a time. I don't know how great it will be, but I expect it will be interesting, and I look forward to it going on past all reason because wonder is just that way. Are you coming or not?
We thread the needle
between Scylla and Charybdis,
through each situation as it arises
all our life long.
We walk along the straight and narrow,
with all its twists and turns,
on the slippery slope,
the dangerous path,
like a razor's edge
every step of the Way--
circumambulating the center,
growing up some more again day-by-day.
It is entirely up to us.
The eye of the needle
is "the still point of the turning world"
in the midst of the conflicts and contradictions
that define our life
within the context and circumstances of our living.
We can care too much
and we can care too little.
Between those extremes
(and all the others)
we find the middle way,
the balance point,
and dance with the music of the spheres
throughout our life.
This is our work.
It is the work of Sisyphus
rolling his rock up the hill
and following it down the hill
to roll it back up the hill
day after day.
Threading the needle between the extremes
all the time.
We have to be invested in our work
without taking it seriously.
It has to matter to us what we do
without it mattering so much
that it interferes with our being able to do it.
We have to know what is important
without being owned by what is important,
lost in what is important
unable to set what is important aside
when the situation calls for it to be set aside
because something else is more important.
There are no doctrines.
There is no dogma.
There are no laws
There is only seeing,
what is called for here and now--
and doing that as best we can
with what we bring to the moment,
We step into every moment
fresh for the adventure,
without the burdens of past or future,
seeing what's what
from the vantage point
of the stillness
and the silence,
waiting for the Way to appear before us
and allowing what needs to happen
to "just happen."
If you think that's easy,
plop yourself down
on the big bull's back,
fasten your grip onto the rope,
and tell them to open the chute.
Remember to enjoy the ride.
That's the most important thing.
I'm retired, and still finding my way--but now, I don't have to pretend that I know what I'm doing.
I retired after 40.5 years as a minister in the Presbyterian Church USA, serving churches in Louisiana, Mississippi and North Carolina. I graduated from Austin Presbyterian Theological Seminary, in Austin, Texas, and Northwestern State University in Natchitoches, Louisiana. My wife, Judy, and I have three daughters and five granddaughters within about twenty minutes from where we live--and are enjoying our retirement as much as we have ever enjoyed anything.
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