Third Anniversary of The Second Chance Heart Surgery : Gratitude for all the Angels!

Archangel Barchiel

Unexpected blessings from unforeseen encounters and accidental relationships fill the prodigal pilgrim’s prayer journals. Here comes another sleepless night. The black and white news silently broadcasts a memorial resume of an ordained impermanent sojourner. He was witness and blessor to the sacred vows of the two proclaiming partnership in the summer of ‘72, two islands touched by Gibran’s sea. He was also anointer, purifier of that duet’s first one as she set sail into the river of life. This earthly spirit was sherpa politely prodding persistent pilgrims onto the path back home. 160 Mitchell seasons have gone round since the first meeting on Fat Tuesday preparing ashes while his water bed was draining as the refrain from Rainy Day Women echoed in the distance. Even strangers knew of mostly true stories of his anomalous authentic allegiance to his mission. This Lone Ranger of souls left his silver bullet of faith as he moved onto serve the distant voices singing out for rescue .The celestial picaresque hero rode off into the sunset.

The pilgrim unexpectedly greeted by his long lost Celtic intermittent bus driving soccer grocery store ecclesiastical friend on the way to the blessor’s celebratory farewell.  Superficial calm suddenly stormed into regrets as the six foot leprechaun messenger shared that this blessor had filled his final years as a wandering ship passing in the night crisscrossing the pilgrim’s own earthen vessel’s passage. But almost just as suddenly and unpredictably another divine wink amidst the gathered congregation caused the pilgrim to connect with yet another sacred cherub from his own salvation history. The disguised Frost who fueled the Apollonian flames within the student-pilgrim a lifetime ago smiled and kindly said he too ”remembered.” Synchronicity is real.

Upon exiting the sanctuary walking alone under a blessed bright blue canopy on an unexpected perfect post storm day overflowing gratitude filled a river of tears of humility and love for these messengers and all the Malachim who have blessed the prodigal wanderer keeping him on the right path.

He wondered…

“ Is this pilgrim that difficult a student or that valued?  What will it take for this heart to be opened and truly healed?"

If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.
            - Meister Eckhart

                                            "When will I ever learn - Van Morrison"

 

The Miracle of Yawkey Way: Father's Day Eve

Fenway Cathedral at Dusk

 

In a cartoon called “Non Sequiter” a New Englander is sitting at his seat at his local diner and notices a sign that reads “ Thank you for Not Talking about Religion.” The customer asks the waitress

“Whoa , what’s this all about Flo?”

She says

“I just want to prevent auguments breakin out in heah.”

The customer protests

“Well that’s trampling on my rights!”

The waitress puzzled

“Since when have you been…”

She catches herself mid sentence and says

“Oh” and she continues

“Baseball isn’t a religion, Eddie!”

The customer screams out in protest

 

“BLASPHEMY!!!”

 

http://www.gocomics.com/nonsequitur/2010/03/06/

 

Pompous prognosticators are paid to predict precipitation possibilities. Passionate prayer filled petitioners plead for picture perfect serene skies. Prediction versus hope.  Dreams of fields filled with the spirits of Williams and Yaz consume the gathering pilgrims parading through passageways of the sacred sanctuary.  The explosive torrent that suddenly washed away the throngs celebrating the awarding of Stanley’s Cup from another season did not wash away the spirit of the anticipated evening-time ecclesiastical celebration.

 

The grace of Kenmore’s tri-color trimark sits atop a short distance from the green monster, quiet vigilant paladin of the trio ward-robed in their allegiant attire maintaining their confident expectancy as they pass through these welcoming gates of paradise. The fears that the diabolical meteorologists may have been accurate suddenly succumb to amnesia. Warm mother sun seems to wind-wipe away the collection of ominous cumulous puffs. All that remains on the great canopy are white streaks along the virgin blue canvas creating a gentle glow of orange-red on the holy horizon as mother sun bids her farewell.   

 

The pilgrim father witnesses this grace with pious humility wondering when will he ever learn and why worry found a place in his heart. Safe at home, his blood, the divine gifts, the miracles of their existence join him in the jubilee of their mutual love and the love for their team.

 

This trinity raise cold ones in sacramental salute while the angelic choir proclaim… ”So good, so good….”

The Trio at Home (plate)

  

 

    “In my beginning is my end…
    Home is where one starts from…
    In my end is my beginning.”
    (T. S. Eliot, “East Coker”)

 

“..baseball is about coming home. The whole point of the game is to finish where you begin – home plate – and once you are home you are finally safe.”

-       Crossing Home, James Penrice

 

 

 

 

 

 

amdg

 

Musing : On a Long Night's Journey into Day

Oftentimes flying in formation looks as though everything is under control and safe. Appearances can be deceiving.  A great gathering saw some leaving, some going, while others were already gone. Some were filled with anticipation and some writing songs about what they experienced. This is Mecca for troubadours who were searching for great grace on God’s stage only found a honky tonk as consolation for their gifts. They were departing almost satisfied. The deluge that washed away hopes and dreams had become just a great watermark on broken hearts.

Wearied vacationers delighted in memories captured in smart phones. One too many Opry nights, Broadway club karaoke’s, and constant dining on bar b q’d Predators with retired Titans had filled them up. Yet the once forever homebodies finally grabbed all the cash from underneath their mattresses and anticipated a great Aloha celebration of their first escape from these Crockett hills into the islands of the sun.

Prodded and probed the herd was religiously obedient. The reflection of the setting sun on the Berry Field windows proclaimed an end and a beginning. Worried wrinkled suited warriors of promised abundant commerce contrived efforts to close last minute sales and file overdue reports using every technology at hand. Commenced sheep-skinned Commodores readied to be catapulted to conquer anything in their next phase as their parents’ depleted bank accounts saw no future in plastics.

Snorting young Turkish tigers pace their cage never being one’s who could be in one place for long. There are lambs to slaughter in the temple and bull markets to conquer. Starched faded desert fatigued Rangers knew the true love of a brother and use any distraction to comfort them in their own reality. A simple Corona and Patron, another and then another for one solitudinal soldier. He was already halfway home. A complacent accidental pilgrim once filled with worry let go and offered this hero in waiting his meal. “No thank you, sir”

Sometimes rain is a just perfect to wash away the grime and sins of a journey. Sometimes the rain builds into storms changing plans for everyone. Birds naturally intuit the prospect of uncontrollable wind and rain accented with charged bolts and immediately secure shelter ceasing their flight plans. It takes humans with their state of the art technology a little longer to catch up with nature.

One hour soon became two, two became three, three to four and four became five. The words and ideas of that pilgrim’s good book were not making a connection either and the mp3 faded leaving him to practice breathing. “Eventually” he thought. He hoped. Déjà vu for the half million mile frequent flyer. He was stuck inside of Nashville with the Jersey blues again. The second chance dance had not quite transformed the history of impatience and anxiety. The major disappointment for he and his new laconic warrior companion was that sign that read “Bar closed.”

Sharing a power source for their gadgets the two were being charged up as the Coronas completed their passage.  In a state of half alertness and dazedness the respectful Spartan - in - Training requested the pilgrim to be a sentinel for his baggage when the voice of the travel gods began to echo news.

Finally the echoing messages became crystal clear for the diverse nomads – 

(Nature 1– Flying Machines  -0)

“Cancelled!”

“Delayed”

and the most dreaded message of all

 “will the following passengers see a gate agent.”

Great expectations for something wonderful waiting at the end of this leg of the journeys began to evaporate. Children wailed, big puffing pinstripers pointedly predicted punitive measures as a way of making note of their perceived self-importance, consoling moms said “Maybe another day” and good Christians proclaimed that the vacation denied was not meant to be.

The pilgrim admittedly frustrated sighed. His unlikely impromptu companion was heart broken, as his fiance' would be at work by the time he would arrive home. Time could not stand still as this would be a short layover on his continued passage. The duffel bag that contained his complete world thrown over his shoulder he turned to the pilgrim saying 

“ Thanks. I am soon off to Afghanistan again and remember me… ”

“I will not forget, be safe ” the pilgrim shouted reaching out with one thumb up.

Fourteen hours slowly passed, four am, usually the time when the pilgrim would wake in gratitude to the new day, now in a garden state of complete exhaustion he finally unlocked the door to his home. All journeys are not the same but eventually they all come to an end.  In the darkness of the pre-dawn hour he opened the fridge grabbed the last Corona opened it, lifted it …in gratitude and hope

“Salut…. and safe journey soldier!”

+++++++++++++

amdg

May Day Meditations: A Two- for

(Picture: Lindsay Sobecki )

Easter Aftermaths

Waking to the song of a solo bird in the moment when all the darkness begins to burn away becomes the moment when the physical and spiritual experience of hope exists in its purest form . The fogged meanderings from a dream-scaped night slowly rise as eyes permit the formation of colors of the new day to greet the soul. Folgers or any other caffeinated contrivances are obviously not the best things.

Reports of storms swirling , separating spirits from sentient beings leaving a serpentined shattered swath of splinters and rubbled ruins is all the news that fits . Pictures of edifices unscathed are visible under the brilliance of the sun that blesses the complete landscape as they scream out for mercy for their sacrificed neighbors.

Caseworker remembrances echo as the morning breaks. Thanksgiving sentiments sanctify the wires from the persistent frightened unbeliever who dodged another bullet.  Exasperated offspring shakes her fist heavenwards seeking consolation and wisdom why barriers divert her partner from a desired vocation. The second one dreams of missionary safaris and finding her prince as another commoner drives away with a future king .The world watches and takes a breath from all the pain.

Songs crafted in a previous life rearranged are rerecorded. Mentoring from a member of the band mitigates fumbling through the technology as mix and levels are altered but the song has not changed.

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Two Saints - Dorothy Day and Mother Teresa

Beatification : Divine Mercy Sunday/International Workers Day

 ( Don’t call me a saint!)

There were four amidst the gathering of 80,000 pilgrims in the land of giants on a torrential October day 1n 1995 .Immersed in the baptism

of constant rain they patiently waited in anticipation of a grace-filled presence. A somber sober sanctified celebration commenced. All they knew was that the man for whom they joined in cheer and reverence was somehow special. Their hungry spirits were nourished. The rain ceased and a holy aura encompassed the celebrant .Karol Józef Wojtyła was living confirmation that an imperfect human form can be sacred.

Post Script:

Books and blogs speculate about the nature of holiness and the institutional canonization of the acclamation of “saint” for certain individuals of virtue. This first day of May 2011 is celebrated as the day of Divine Mercy ( all giving unconditional love and forgiveness ) , as well as celebrating the Beatification of Pope John Paul II, who once suggested that our “prayer be are work and our work are prayer.” It is coincidentally also the day identified as “International Workers Day (May Day )”, honoring all who work. Reflecting on holiness, mercy and work  - Dorothy Day comes to mind.

Reading her words and stories about her she seems to meet the core criteria of the church to be called “Saint.” The work of Dorothy Day was her prayer , her prayer was her life.

(Dorothy Day former agnostic, divorced, had an abortion, unwed mother, ex- Communist, common law wife, has a spiritual awakening and converts to Catholicism at about age 30 ….Social activist, co-founder of Catholic Worker Movement , author, peace activist , opens  30 that has grown to 100 communities  to  house and serve the working poor , homeless and marginalized ….

Dorothy Day once said “Don’t call me a saint, I don’t want to be dismissed that easily.”)

Somehow it becomes clear that all who listen to and follow their hearts are saints.

(A gift for the readers:

Love and Mercy ....click link for video and music

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PISkFEzC5XE

I was sittin' in a crummy movie with my hands on my chin
Oh the violence that occurs seems like we never win

Love and mercy that's what you need tonight
So, love and mercy to you and your friends tonight

I was lyin' in my room and the news came on T.V.
A lotta people out there hurtin' and it really scares me

Love and mercy that's what you need tonight
So, love and mercy to you and your friends tonight

I was standin' in a bar and watchin' all the people there
Oh the loneliness in this world well it's just not fair

Hey love and mercy that's what you need tonight
So, love and mercy to you and your friends tonight

Love and mercy that's what you need tonight
Love and mercy tonight

Love and mercy
 

 amdg

March Madness - A Meditation

"Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems. "
                           - Ranier Maria Rilke

March moving slower than a flight of geese against a north wind to an end of a season conjures a final avalanche of memories and great expectations. This is the time when the sun is supposed to proclaim reconciliation. This is the time of the restrained sacred celebration of once barren trees. This is the time crocuses pop pointing heavenwards through the once frozen landscape.

Birds of last summer return choraling praise and gratitude sweetly interrupting the early morning silence. Wakened bear thirsts for the promise of fresh nourishment after months of darkness. Humans believe their springing clocks forward will buy them extra time of holy light and warmth. Sixty-four hardwood warriors battle down to a final four.

Garden tools sharpened. The soil is tilled. Seeds are planted. Faith is restored. That which is sown will be reaped. Flowered bonnets adorn storefront windows calling out to prospective owners seeking something new in their lives. Hoards of coeds invade southern climate beaches renewing ancient Greek traditions of Dionysian celebrations of the vernal equinox. Fear of the Ides comes and goes without drama. St. Patrick’s teachable shamrocks line windows of taverns pouring pints of stout. The Smell of linseed oiled gloves and the appearance of cleaned spikes signal that diamond parks are ready to be invaded.

Rose Sunday, “Rejoice oh Jerusalem!” The vessel prepped for launching. Flicks of blue bottom paint from youthful spirits find their way to their smile gifted faces and a newly winter cleansed car.

“Don't worry. It’s just a car , right dad?’

The voice of innocence, seed of truth penetrating the aging pilgrim with purpose, bringing gifts to the altar. The snow that seemed as if it would never leave slowly succumbs to the Easter that is just a horizon away.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Spring

 - Mary Oliver

 

This morning
two birds
fell down the side of the maple tree

like a tuft of fire
a wheel of fire
a love knot

out of control as they plunged through the air
pressed against each other
and I thought

how I meant to live a quite life
how I meant to live a life of mildness and meditation
tapping the careful words against each other

and I thought—
as though I were suddenly spinning like a bar of silver
as though I had shaken my arms and lo! they were wings—

of the Buddha
when he rose from the green garden
when he rose in his powerful ivory body

when it turned to the long dusty road without end
when he covered his hairs with ribbons and the petals of flowers
when he opened his hands to the world

- amdg

On the Happenings in Wisconsin

“The lesson lies in learning
by teaching I will be taught
For there is nothing
Hidden anywhere
It is just all there
To be sought”

- Look to your soul, Procol Harum



Who would think that the joy of the Super Bowl trophy returning to Titletown would be short lived?

The heart started breaking when it saw how those who are of the “noble profession” are being treated in various parts of the country. Proof positive that ignorance is the enemy. Maintaining the status quo in this blog and being silent about this issue would be compliance. There is a persistent fear that the oft idealized profession and teachers portrayed in books and movies such as The Blackboard Jungle, To Sir with Love , Dead Poets Society , Mr. Holland’s Opus, Dangerous Minds, Mona Lisa Smile , Music of the Heart, Freedom Writers and so many many more may become fantasies and ineffable anomalies to future generations.



(The job posting and conditions of employment below appeared in a nightmare about what is happening in Wisconsin, Providence , RI , New Jersey and New York.)


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                                                               Wanted

Needed individuals who are compassionate and caring. They will be passionate about their “work” and their clientele equally. These employees are to open doors so their clientele may recognize and use their own God-given gifts. These clients then can, without fear, identify their own verse in the great play and make their own lives extraordinary . Candidates will go out of their way to mentor their charges by freely giving their expertise as well as being a role model demonstrating a positive attitude about aspects of life . These individuals will be expected to always be enthusiastic.Their personal values will meet the highest moral and ethical standards where they will be admired by peers , supervisors and the general community. It is expected that the significant candidates in this career will maintain a high level of subject matter expertise as well as intellectual rigor for their own continued growth and development.

Candidates will be innovators and creative in their delivery of their services. Core competences required for the position include  flexibility and adaptability to the changing environment inside and outside the organization. Successful employees then must be adept with leading edge technology and how it impacts their profession and their clientele. Terms such as “sherpa”, “coach”, “encourager”, “servant”, “counselor” and “facilitator” will be defining qualitative factors of their role. The ability to communicate on all levels at all times and in all circumstances will be an essential measurement of success. Assuring that their charges are equipped with the appropriate tools, knowledge and skills at the completion of their relationship will also be considered to be a minimum performance standard for all hired.


There will also be some basic conditions of employment that must be subscribed to, including but are not limited to:

• Individuals in these positions will have a specific schedule but must be available at all times for emergencies and other organizational considerations. (24/7)
• It is expected that qualified candidates will take a personal interest in the needs and achievement of everyone of their charges personally
• They must be 100 % responsive to all groups who have a stakeholder interest in the success of their clientele as well as the overall institution.
• These individuals will work under all conditions, positive , mediocre and adverse.
• If any level of management exhibits any type of incompetence the candidates are expected to remain silent about their concern.
• Compliance and silence will be expected when basic personnel practices and procedures are violated by supervisory personnel.
• Candidates challenging any action of supervisors or management will be considered disloyal to the clients and the overall mission of the organization.
• Membership in any organization that attempts to protect the interests and integrity of the employees will be considered a disloyal and rebellious act.
• If these employees are ever suspected of violating any real or perceived law they will be dismissed summarily without due process.
• Their day to day and continued employment is completely at the will and discretion of others and can be adjusted in the blink of an eye.
• Assignments and job duties can also be altered at the whim of management.
• Expression by the employee of any political or religious view that might considered contrary to that of management is considered a dismissible offense.
• Total compensation including benefits for all college degreed candidates will always be less than the compensation of comparable careers for college graduates in the private sector.
• Additional supplies and tools needed to successfully complete the job performance will be paid for in full by the employee.
• Management can add to or subtract from these conditions of employment without any notice to anyone anytime.

Each of the above required competences and conditions of employment will be multiplied by a factor of ten for all employees for at least 40% less pay in private and parochial schools.

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Teaching is the only major occupation of man for which we have not yet developed tools that make an average person capable of competence and performance. In teaching we rely on the "naturals," the ones who somehow know how to teach.
~Peter Drucker

Teaching is the profession that teaches all the other professions. ~Author Unknown

A good teacher is like a candle - it consumes itself to light the way for others.
                                  ~Author Unknown



“We sanctify all we are grateful for” – A. DeMello SJ

I am grateful for the teachers who encouraged me to be me.
I will never, ever forget !

amdg


A truth about the Wisconsin matter:

http://blogs.forbes.com/rickungar/2011/02/25/the-wisconsin-lie-exposed-taxpayers-actually-contribute-nothing-to-public-employee-pensions/

What non-political experts are saying about the impact of teachers, their effectiveness and salaries
(Princeton- Brookings)

http://futureofchildren.org/futureofchildren/publications/journals/article/index.xml?journalid=34&articleid=82&sectionid=486

 Click link....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s8UL_9R_W-Y&feature=related

On the Road Again: Turn!Turn!Turn!

“…Use my body like a car,
Taking me both near and far
Met my friends all in the material world…”

-       Living in The material World, George Harrison

 “To everything there is a season, and
a time to every purpose under heaven…”

                       - Ecclesiastes, 3: 1-2

Sometimes the world changes in the blink of an eye, the taking of a breath or the beat of a heart. Before one has a chance to have another thought everything that was has been transformed. It is almost as if that everything that was is now a memory and that which is to come is a new challenge and experience ineffable until it too has been experienced and then is past. Suddenly that source of comfort, security and familiarity is swept away. That long winding road ahead takes a sudden turn and everything is new again.

It is guaranteed that if you were to suggest to Hawk Hill Girl number 2 that her eyes welled up with tears as she said a final farewell to her faithful friend she would deny it, once, twice and even a third time. Her companion and protector for the past few years would no longer be a part of her. Digital representations online and in photographic journals would become the prompts to conjure the memories of journeys taken together and how they survived unforecasted storms. One day they were cruising along together on the roads of life to work, to school and to play with blasting beats and harmonies when suddenly without warning the companion stopped as if to say “Please, no more.”

The grateful eulogy about those incidents when she was protected from harm poured forth from her heart. There is no greater gift but to give one’s life for a friend. Her mother contributed her voice to the lament of the requiem, but she is also one proud not to show too much emotion, she reverently touched the cold resting body as if to say “Thank you for being good to my daughter and farewell good friend.”

“We are known by our friends,” a homilist suggested.

Isn’t it interesting how we let attachments to people and things define or influence who we are? We all know we are not those things or people and they are not we but some how mystically and maybe magically a unique bond is often made between us that of this world. Sometimes it seems that these things or people have been coincidentally placed in our path to help us along until we can strike out with our own voice.  Maybe it is true that there is a purpose to all things. Maybe the divine intervention is greater than we can imagine. Ignatius says God is in all things. Some eastern teachers suggest Buddha comes in all forms.

So it was for number 2 and her companion, they became one…bold, adventurous, independent, no terrain forbidden, hope-filled, confident and ever strident. If you saw the companion it was easy to think number 2 and often the opposite was true. Then that unforeseen moment surfaced when the old friend would say farewell. All that had gone before was a formation process. Some behaviorists call this individuation while others suggest that as the universe constantly expands nothing stays the same. “Impermanence is life” write the cloistered Tibetan monks. The body, mind and spirit simply evolve say others.

Sometimes human nature often struggles to hold onto what has been and who has been with us during our experiences of maturation. That attachment to those and that which have been an essential part of the molding our own being can sometimes fetter us from becoming who we are meant to be. Some of us need more time and help in the art of becoming that we are. Then there are a few of those who seem to have been planted in holy ground and blossom with amazing grace.

It was in this situation that her once reliable friend had aged quickly. The miles traversed together were beginning to show their wear and tear. Tried, true and tested it was time. She was the vessel that delivered freedom and now she was being set free, her mission fulfilled. Her name appropriately described her purpose - Liberty.  As the family departed leaving her behind in her stillness she somehow broke the silence and said, “And, Thank you.”

A new journey with new adventures awaits the rogue warrior as she is welcomed to who she is to become. Though we are aware that things and others do not define who we are, we are sometimes fortunate to be cognizant of role others have played in the birthing of our own identity. The formation taken place and complete there comes that moment when it is right to be grateful for the blessing and move on to the next chapter.

She gave one last glance farewell to her resting black Jeep Liberty.




amdg