Thursday, December 17, 2015

SOMETIMES YOU CATCH THE WIND


Major life change can be intimidating.  We all hope for good things, but the reality of stretching ourselves to the adjustments of new contexts is usually difficult in some respect.  In spite of the growing pains and losses that accompany change, I find grounding and gratitude in options available to me, and I make every effort to try to chose the best one available.

In searching for direction, other than what I already anticipate for myself, I gently knock on various doors, and with input from close friends and mentors who are willing to be honest and bold with me, lean into some of those spaces with greater emphasis.  It became very clear through this process what is a priority and what isn’t, possibilities to be pursued at a later time and what lies at hand.  I think of this a little like nudging the Divine in collaborating in the creative process.  

I briefly described my political outlook in a previous post and here is the other relevant but sensitive piece: faith.  Raised non-practicing Catholic, distanced from the Church for a couple of decades while exploring philosophy, atheism, Buddhism, and other distractions and paths to enlightenment.  I re-engaged the Christian faith through protestant training and have found a church home for the last 8 years at a United Methodist Church in Tampa where I feel free to practice my faith within and beyond the confines of the Church property.  I need to feel freedom as well as accountability in my walk with God.  It’s been a long journey providing me with points of connection and understanding of many other ideas that speak of overlapping universal truths.  It’s those truths that may differ in small details or metaphor that help me believe there is something greater and good at hand, working to guide us.  

That may sound wishy-washy, but as a human being, not a rock or an insect, my grounding is definitely and always comes back to the precepts and identity of the Christian faith for affirmation and confirmation in my thoughts and actions...  While still fleshing out some of the aspects of the more common creeds I do believe in a Creator God; a holy, merciful and good presence, who seeks to reach and help us through all the challenges and chaos in this world that seek to undermine His will.  I believe in His Spirit; the inspiration that accompanies us always as believers, and particularly instrumental in His influence when we allow Him to work through us and are sensitive to the spiritual elements in our midst.  And Christ; our blessed example and mediator when faced with the impossible task of understanding and glorifying the greatness of the divine in difficult circumstances and particularly in dealing with others.  

This has always been a major consideration in my awareness of events, personal pursuits, my life’s mission and in the direction I am heading.  I enjoy but am not bound to the security of the temple and I am more often than not left wanting by the short and light content of most Bible studies.  I do enjoy a good sermon and fellowship and I like to see the Christian calling lived out in Kingdom-building ways in our community and by extension in the world.  Each to his own spiritual gifts and inclinations, I value greatly those who serve in all their respects. 

This faith gives me the confidence that whatever, wherever life presents, I am not alone.  There is affirmation and blessing and usually a whole lot of fast-paced events that fall into place one after another when a shift is in play.  

There are times, of course, I have taken the wrong road, and found myself climbing a hill to desolation and depletion.  There are plenty of lessons that still need to be learned.  Sometimes I felt like something was being presented as an opportunity where it was really a temptation.  It is not necessarily a good or bad thing, it is often something I needed to work on and be steadfast in my patience and obedience about.  It makes it even harder to discern when we don’t like where we are.  In those times, I just shake my head at my own inabilities and throw my hands up in submission… and things usually get better from that point on.

Then there are those awesome, vital, glorious, anabolic times where I’ve hit the nail on the head.  I found myself thankful for the wind at my back, riding in complete synchrony with all that surrounds me and everything working together without any perceivable negative impact involved.  Those times are by the grace of God, nothing I could ever orchestrate or dream up of on my own and I am fortunate to have had my share of them in life.

Let me give you one of my first real experiences of this feeling.  In 1988, I was 22 years old and got a job crewing as first mate on the sailboat of a retired newspaper owner in San Diego.  The intentions were to sail to the South Pacific, but after a month at dock in Cabo San Lucas and the owners imperfect health, it became clear to me that the well laid plans were not going to fruition.  I ran into a Captain from a fishing vessel who was looking for someone to navigate a three week delivery from Chula Vista to Hawaii and decided that would be a good transition stint.  The problem was I was stuck in a tiny little undeveloped bay in the Sea of Cortez, Bahia Los Frailes, which is now a National Park.  The winds were too high for the owner to move the boat and my window of opportunity was growing short.

One morning I woke up completely exasperated from being stranded for so many days.  I packed my bag and asked for a lift to shore in the dinghy.  Somehow I would find my way 150 miles to La Paz, without a road in sight, completely at the mercy of whatever lay beyond the brush past the beach.  I carried a medium-sized duffle bag that contained my documents, foul weather gear, a few books, some clothes that tended not to last very long and got replaced by other items along the way, about $20, a bottle of water and a pack of peanut M & M’s.

The wind minimized the heat, but the dust was terrible and I tied a bandana around my nose and mouth to help me breathe easier.   The shrubs were thin enough to find your way through, and I headed straight inland.  My primary concern was rattlesnakes.  We had hiked the mountain by the bay the day before and it was infested with them.  Thankfully and to my surprise after a few hundred yards and no rattlesnakes, I came across a dirt road.  I headed North.  I walked along for an hour or so when a small pick-up truck came rumbling along slowly from behind me.  There were two men in the truck.  I hesitated after a negative experience with some locals in Cabo, but these were country people, and the small waterfront villages had always been good to us as strangers on the boat.  I waved them down.  My Spanish had improved from the time I had spent in Cabo, and I asked them about a road to La Paz, if there there was a bus and how far away it was.  They nodded and pointed but had no clue about schedules.  I asked them for a lift to the road where the bus ran and they obliged.  They brought me to a crossroads with a paved road.  There was a small deserted bus shelter on one side of the road.  I thanked them, gave them a couple of dollars, and they drove off.

The bus shelter was devoid of life or information.  I sat and waited, thinking maybe another car will drive by.  Nothing.  I read a book and stayed in the shade.   Slowly, and seemingly out of nowhere, people started appearing, walking towards the shelter.  There was a boy with his father, a couple of others looking at me with curiosity.  Apart from the way they were dressed, I knew from trading candy and cokes for fresh fish along the coast that these people lived on very little.  I opened my pack of M & M’s and shared.  Smiles all around.  It was good fellowship with minimal interaction.  The bus finally came.  I gave the driver $7 for a ride to La Paz, another $5 got me to the airport where I could use my credit card to buy a plane ticket to San Diego and some food.  I spent a night in San Diego at the Salvation Army shelter there, where I came very close to having everything stolen by a homeless woman, and the next day I found my boat and was ready to head further east, as originally intended.  

I am not a regular wing and a prayer type of adventurer.  There is usually a little more planning and understanding of logistics involved when I want to go somewhere.  I found it pretty amazing that I was able to find my way so serendipitously from the isolation of a small boat anchored in the Sea of Cortez to my destination in another country about 1000 miles away in one day.  This experience is one of many of its nature that have served to overcome my fears about taking certain risks, minimizing the need for control, remaining flexible and humble, and engaging other cultures.  That was a day I caught the wind.