Gonna Wash My Soul

I stumbled onto Amos Lee the other day while listening to Jango, an online radio station. I’d never heard of Amos Lee but he was singing something called, “El Camino,” and I liked it.

His voice is mellow and a bit gravely and it carries some pain in it but the pilgrim’s spirit can be heard in him, too.

“Well to all my friends

That treated me so well

You know I’m headed out

To that mission bell

Gonna wash my soul, gonna get it clean

Headed down the border road called the El Camino”

This is a beautiful song filled with pathos and truth-seeking.

I love the image of the sort of forlorn traveler perhaps a little weary with life taking off to find his way, leaving his friends behind to seek some redemption, some transcendence and transformation, down a border road to where the mission bell is calling him.

I want to go, too.

I want experiences that call me to deeper insight into life, and, to higher places of self-awareness. Not egotism. Not selfishness. Not vanity. But discovery. Revelation. Open-heartedness. Experiences that expose my doubts and fears, that lay bare the real me, that guide me into the freedom to be okay with all that I am and am not. So that hopefully I am more human, more sympathetic, more patient and caring toward others.

It is so easy to slip into the clutter and dysfunction of life and get lost in the disarray of things. So much seems to not be working right these days. Nearly everyone seems angry about something.

We are identified by the sharp unfinished edges within us. And sometimes without even thinking about it we forget how they poke and stab and wound.

We see all of the things we don’t like in one another. Instead of trying to understand what makes us similar, what makes us equal in our human capacities, we focus on our differences. We zero in on someone’s race or sexual orientation or politics or religious beliefs or lack thereof, and we make them targets for some searing anger we have built up in ignorance and pride. And we lose so much that might keep us in neighborliness and community and goodwill.

The mystic and poet, Kahlil Gibran, wrote, “We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them.”

That wisdom is a warning to us. How we approach life and people so determines how we experience them.

I’m listening for that mission bell, whatever and wherever it is. A calling to people and experiences that will wash my soul, and get it clean.

I am so ready for that.

If I had five minutes to evacuate--what would I take with me?

If I was told there was a bomb in my building and I had five minutes to evacuate my apartment I’d grab a grocery bag and quickly toss these items into it: 1. A photo of my grandparents, Mom and Pop and me, when I was 15 years old. I learned what love is made of from them. I learned what it is to be kissed on and hugged in arms so tender they felt like God’s arms. I discovered self worth from those two angels in human flesh. Of all the people in my life, they were the ones who made me feel I counted. Honestly, whatever capacity I have to love others came from them. 2. A sentimental, dog-eared, stars in the margin copy of Pat Conroy’s, “The Prince of Tides.” It is a book I have read three times and often return to for its wisdom. It is a harsh, profoundly tragic novel, the story of a family so broken and tortured by such flawed and wounded people that it is sometimes difficult to turn the next page. And yet it is the story of such Herculean courage and endurance that you want...

I Saw the Delicacy of Life

I was flying Across the deep And I saw the delicacy Of life Wrinkles on the faces Of the old So pure they glistened Like awards The joy of children Running with abandon Their laughter ringing Like chimes in the wind I saw the soft moving waves Across the sea And the trees releasing Their rainbow leaves Birds joined me on my flight And I saw the surface of their wings Adorned with patterns Glorious and unfurled I saw the tears of the sad And the smiles of the glad The suffering in mourning And the celebration of birth As I descended toward the ground Slowly, slowly, softly I saw the gentle grass of the field And smelled the fresh earth It was a perfect landing © 2018 Timothy Moody

Actions Make a Difference

“We make progress in society only if we stop cursing and complaining about its shortcomings and have the courage to do something about them.” ~ Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, Physician/Author Pictured here is Kikuko Shinjo, 89 years old, a survivor of the Hiroshima atomic bomb blast. As a 17-year old nursing student she helped nurse victims of the carnage back to health. Many of them died in her care. She says she holds no grudge against America and encourages interaction between the Japanese and Americans. She has devoted her life to peace, saying, “I want all the people around the world to be friends, and I want to make my country peaceful without fighting.” Today she makes colorful paper cranes and donates them to the Children’s Peace Monument at the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park.

The Unclad Soul

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