For some there comes a time when a second chance is given.That time then becomes a celebration of the unrecognized gifts of the past and humble gratitude for the wonder of present.
This then is a collection of reflections and comments on life,work,love and faith to be sung ,and danced to, in thanksgiving for a second chance.
" St. Bonaventure taught that to work up to loving God ( having a complete experience with the divine), start by loving the very humblest and simplest of things, and then move up from there."
- Richard Rohr
(*Note: Every aspect of creation is interconnected and interdependent. The Divine is that ineffable eternal spark, that perpetual ever-present sacred DNA in all creation . Just because one does not completely comprehend the simplicity and yet majesty of the universe does not mean the sanctity of everything does not exist.)
"The love of the divine ( that eternal spark ) creates in us such a being that when truly seen, no person can separate themselves from another person ( any other aspect of creation). In the sight of the divine ( the light of all people creation , are connected ) and are one."
- Julian of Norwich
"Your grandfather once told me it was ok to think about what you want to be until it was time
to start doing what you were meant to do"
- The Rookie
"Coincidence is God's way of remaining anonymous"
- A. Einstein
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The Great Chain of Being: Considerations
Consider Beethoven upon completing
The fourth Movement (Ode to Joy) of his Ninth Symphony
Saying the full orchestra was not needed .
Since the first chair violinist was the best musician,
Only one instrument would suffice.
What is the sound of a violinist playing notes without an instrument?
Listen to the sound of one hand clapping.
What if there was no space or rest between notes,
Is there music ?
Is the silence the one great connector of everything?
The internet reported Ringo releasing
A solo collection of the Beatles greatest hits
With only the sound of the drum tracks for each song.
Did Monet think how a single water lily would be enough?
Why use more paint than necessary?
Imagine Whitman after writing "Oh me oh my..." thinking additional words
Would be a potential distraction .
What if Papa Hemingway, tired of standing,
Pulled the ribbon from his weary worn typewriter after just a few words,
Silently self scrutinizing ," I only write what I know."
What about the teacher who directs the lesson
To just one of a class of 23 students
The remaining 22 being less attentive,
Possibly less smart and maybe not as good looking?
Is there that mother loving, feeding and nurturing
Just one of her hungry children?
Is meditating on blades of grass or egrets in the shallows
A waste of time and effort?
Would there be any future plants
If the wind suddenly refused to blow seeds from one landscape to another?
Can the beach have an ocean without tides or waves?
Who decided why bees, other incects and critters
Play critical roles in pollination , rebirth and resurgence
With the magical result of feeding the world?
How do sailors who circumnavigate solo
Know where they are headed if there are no stars
Or have no electronic navigation once created
In a lab in New Jersey by a lonely
Over caffeinated frustrated scientist?
Did Edison consider the result of a Gallup poll questioning
IF electric light was truly necessary?
Do you know any humble sentient beings grateful for the inspiration
That motivated Dionysus to make grapes into wine?
Do we only give love if there is a guarantee of love being reciprocated?
- JF Sobecki
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( Sometimes simplicity is the perfect place to start and sometimes it is the answer)
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Aimless Love
This morning as I walked along there lake shore
I fell in love with a wren
and later in the day with a mouse
the cat had dropped under the dining room table.
In the shadows of an autumn evening,
I fell for a seamstress
still at her machine in the tailor's window
and later for a bowl of broth,
steam rising like smaoke from a naval battle.
This is best kind of love, I thought
without recompense, without gifts,
or unkind words, without suspicion,
or silence on the telephone.
The love of the chestnut
the jazz cap and one hand on the wheel.
Bo lust, no slam on the door--
the love of the miniature orange tree,
the clean white shirt, the hot evening shower,
the highway that cuts across Florida.
No waiting , no huffiness, or rancor-
just a twinge every now and then
for the wren who had built her nest
on a low branch overhanging the water
and for the dead mouse,
still dressed in its light brown suit.
But my heart is always standing on its tripod,
ready for the next arrow.
After I carried the mouse by the tail
to a pile of leaves in the woods,
I found myself standing at the bathroom sink
gazing down affectionately at the soap.
so patient and soluble,
so at home in its pale green soap dish.
I could feel myself falling again
as I felt its turning in my wet hands
and caught the scent of lavender and stone.
- Billy Collins
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Water Lilles - C. Monet
Beethoven 9th Symphony - Movement IV - "Ode to Joy"
"As if summoned by seagulls, we come back to the beachwhere we can cast off the shoes and our everyday cares tell time by the tides and live in the moment .
Our search for shells an echo of childhood and the surf's refrain is music remembered "
- author unknown
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Sometimes the Sanctuary of Safe Harbors
Sometimes the world's chaotic madness
Seems to be spinning out of control.
Sometimes a pilgrimage on one's Camino
Storms of all types and sizes surge within and without.
Sometimes seeking sanctuary of safe harbors
Is considered an escape , a desire for refuge,
A place for security,
A need for retreat and sanctification.
Verdant spaces, beaches, retreats, houses of prayer -
Holy safe haven places all - simple sacramental space.
Even Lake Wobegonites had their 'Storm Homes'.
The great teacher and other mystics comprehend
The cosmic nature within the universe
And the maginifence of the light
That nourishes and bathes searchers
Desiring solitude,
The consolation and the illumination
Found in the serenity and the solemnity
Of everything and everyone.
Sitting in the stillness and silence
Savoring the ascent of the promised perpetual peace.
Another miracle for the grateful,
The present , and mindful to the wonder - the beauty
Of the mystical truth.
Breathe...
- JF Sobecki (2022)
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Exit Zero
What is that voice, that essence, that power
That calls to wayward wandering sailor pilgrims?
What is the source of their uncontrolled
yearning to travel to that safe harbor ?
What is this place, this home of serenity and solitude,
Where the voice of God becomes the wind itself
That blows the sand and salt air and provides lift for coasting gulls
And puffs the sails of all that venture to the great sea?
What is this place that finds a way to nourish equally all
The spirits who are present ?
What is this place where both the sunrise and sunsets
Are majestic providing immediate consolation
to all the hearts who turn to the horizon?
What is this lighthouse that can be seen by any eyes
Of seafaring spirits who dare to see or
What is this lifeboat always ready for any swimmer who struggles with
The tides that come in and go out ?
What is this place that is free from the hurricanes
And storms regardless of their source or nature?
How is it that in this place the sound of the surf magically
Soothing souls and the sand on the beach relieves
The burden of wearied travelers?
It is said that essence of joy and hope reside in this place.
