Bird Droppings January 1, 2025
LIFE and FINALITY, two words that, as we get older, seem to be a part of our daily process.

Morning has been a special time for me each day, a new beginning. Several aspects make it special; the first one is taking pictures of sunrises. Then I ran some errands, started getting ready for a New Year’s dinner, and wrote and read, which became my meditation for the day. On some days, I try to get in some extra walking to get my old joints moving. It has become, in many ways, a significant part of each day. I walked out this morning and felt the chill, but the clouds had diminished, and the nearly full moon was setting in the west. I looked out across the meadow; the big dipper was rising above the trees, and the stars were crystal clear in the morning darkness through the pines and oaks.

“Life is raw material. We are artisans. We can sculpt our existence into something beautiful or debase it into ugliness. It’s in our hands.” Cathy Better

Several years ago, I left my room after classes and went through the guidance office, saying hello to several people. I was checking the files and paperwork and noticed someone was missing. I noticed and never questioned as the day went on. I sensed an absence, yet still had not questioned. As the day ended, I heard over the announcements that one of the staff members had suffered a heart attack during a stress test and was having surgery that day.

“It is not how many years we live, but rather what we do with them.” Evangeline Cory Booth

A year ago, as I went to get the mail, one of our neighbors was walking her dogs. We said hello, and she asked if I knew what was going on down the street. She had seen a coroner’s van there a day or two ago. I really do not keep very good tabs on my neighbors, and I have no information. She then informed me that her husband had passed away two weeks before. Again, I did not know, other than seeing many cars at their house back then. All added to my most recent turmoil over finality. As I get older, with each new creak in a joint or muscle weakness, old age sets in. I have been poked and prodded over the past couple of weeks. Tomorrow is the dreaded colonoscopy, and I suffer today from cooking for everyone, and I cannot eat. I found some good seafood broth and had a cup for breakfast earlier this morning. Clear liquids all day today.

“Your life and my life flow into each other as waves flow into waves, and unless there is peace and joy and freedom for you, there can be no real peace or joy or freedom for me. To see reality–not as we expect it to be but as it is–is to see that unless we live for each other and in and through each other, we do not really live very satisfactorily; that there can really be life only where there really is, in just this sense, love.” Frederick Buechner

Last night, I sat down to think and write down words and pictures that may be significant to a project I am working on for my research. It was hard getting to work after eating dinner and lounging for a few minutes, especially as it was my “last supper ” before fasting. I emailed several people last night, just touching base, although my iPhone was ready to call it a day.

“If, after all, men cannot always make history have meaning, they can always act so that their own lives have one.” Albert Camus

“The tragedy of life is not so much what men suffer, but rather what they miss.” Thomas Carlyle

As I moved through the week, I sensed something was amiss, and even after knowing it was difficult to offer any comfort from a distance, I was able to move on. Most people in today’s monastic world never miss a stride. I am sure there were a few tears from friends and those they knew, but all in all, the day went on as normal. It seems we are all creatures of habit, and our routines kick in, leading us through the day.

“What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.” Crowfoot

I have used this quote so many times, and each time, it seems appropriate. I remember as a child chasing fireflies across a meadow, gathering those life forces in a mason jar to light my room, and then releasing them into the night, watching them float away in the darkness. That time seemed like an eternity ago on a hill in Pennsylvania.

“It’s not how long life is but the quality of our life that is important.” Roger Dawson

“Life is made of ever so many partings welded together.” Charles Dickens

Often, as my week progresses and days roll by, I wander back, thinking of reasons why, and always end up thinking of my younger brother. In 1996, my brother passed away, and my family was faced with a new beginning. We all had literally built our lives around my little brother. He was severely disabled, and our being in Georgia was directly related to him. We celebrated his life, reviewing the intricate webs that were laid each moment, and people touched and lives affected by what had now become an enormous outpouring of life.

“Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We would not dare to conceive things that are merely commonplace in existence. If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the roofs, and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the strange coincidences, the planning, the cross-purposes, the wonderful chain of events, working through generations and leading to the most outer results, it would make all fiction with its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and unprofitable.” Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Sitting here among my books and artifacts, I know we each approach the morning differently. I embrace the day and begin with my writing, seeing each moment unfold. Since 1996, I have taken many different roads and journeys, and as I look back, each has had meaning and direction, leading me to the moment.

“Life is about the journey, not the destination.” Steven Tyler

It has been several years since I received an urgent call from my nephew. We had gone to an away football game up in North Georgia and actually were out of cellular range for some time. The call was about a friend who had been in a car accident, and as that day unfolded, I spent the night in the Athens Hospital holding a young man’s hand as monitors beeped and droned, and he lay unmoving. I sat watching banks of meters, gauges, and dials. I was hoping that the numbers on the dials would change. Throughout the night, nothing indicated brain wave activity, and by morning, our dear friend was pronounced dead. When I got home, I saw this quote from an Aerosmith song. It seems I keep coming back to that note in my writings. In 1968, as I left for college in Texas, I received a book from my parents that I still have on my shelf: a Bible. On page 596, a verse that has stuck with me.

“To everything, there is a season, and a time, to every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;” Ecclesiastes 3:1-2

Many years ago, Pete Seeger, a folk singer and environmentalist, wrote music for the words, and a song was born: “Turn, Turn, Turn.” To every season, turn, turn, turn, there is a reason, turn, turn, turn, and a time for every purpose under heaven. The song became a hit and was coincidentally sung by a group called the Byrds.

“Nothing is beneath you if it is in the direction of your life.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

“In three words, I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life. It goes on.” Robert Frost

So often, the poet’s words offer comfort or give direction back to the journey set off course in but one moment. There is no filling of a void. Yet, when looking at life and all that has been, and at the journey to now, there truly was never a void. There is a turn in the road, a new direction; all that has led to this point has not changed, and it is there behind us, lifting us, guiding us, and strengthening us as we continue. I remember a photo of my son crossing a stream in north Georgia, already sopping wet from falling in, but still intent on making it across stone by stone, jumping from rock to rock as he crossed.

We all can cross in our time, and there are times when a hand is welcome. Years ago, I set up a website for a youth group, and today, I will close with the starting line from that website: “Friends are never alone.” Keep all in harm’s way on your mind and in your hearts today, and keep those friends who may need extra support close at hand. Namaste.

My family and friends, I do not say this lightly,

Mitakuye Oyasin

(We are all related)

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