The Unclad Soul

I was on the walking trail the other morning and happened to notice the white fluffy clouds in a clear blue sky above me. It’s hard to walk and look straight up at the same time. At least it is for me. I had to stop for a minute and take it all in. The smallness in society today, the petty wrangling over politics, the little daily insults from the President and politicians on both sides, the ridiculous media madness, the silly antics of drivers on the freeway furious because someone didn’t let them into their lane, the rude actions of store clerks and customers, seem all-consuming these days. And then, there is the sky. So vast. So mysterious. What’s up there besides airplanes and clouds? What might happen if we were to often roam the dimensions of nature? To get out of our narrow confines and seek wisdom in the sky, the ocean, the blooming flowers, and healthy plants, in the broad wide existence of our expansive environment. We might grow in maturity, in insight,...

There is this from Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland,” Mad Hatter: “Why is a raven like a writing-desk?” (There is a long pause.) “Have you guessed the riddle yet?” the Hatter said, turning to Alice again. “No, I give up,” Alice replied: “What’s the answer?” “I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Hatter . And so, there you have it. My dilemma. I’m trying to figure out what happened to us as a nation. It’s a riddle I can’t answer. I haven’t the slightest idea. There are possible answers, I suppose. We got too big. We overachieved. We mixed religion with politics and politics took over religion. We became insanely selfish. We forgot our neighbors. We learned to hate more than we learned to love. We confined ourselves to our own kind and decided “others” were our enemies. We stopped thinking. We stopped caring. We stopped growing. The list is pretty much endless. So here we are. A nation in crisis. We’re surrounded by the greatest gadgets and devices and pla...

I lost a friend last week. Her name was Angi Jenkins. Only 46 years old, her life ended after a lifetime of battling cystic fibrosis. I knew Angi during my years in Hamilton, Texas. She moved to Dallas not long before I did. We reconnected here and then we became Facebook friends. She was often in and out the hospital dealing with serious health issues related to the CF. I dropped in on her unexpectedly one afternoon when she was having to stay at Baylor Hospital for several days. She apologized for not looking her best, but anyone who knew Angi knew it was impossible for her not to look her best. She had a luminous smile, a glowing spirit, and a bighearted presence that simply chased away any of the dark clouds that surrounded her illness. She dealt with her situation with gifted humor, beautiful poise, amazing courage, incredible love and faith. In these past days Saint Paul’s comment in his letter to the Philippians comes to mind: “I thank God every time I think of you....

“You normally have to be bashed about a bit by life to see the point of daffodils, sunsets and uneventful nice days.”   ―   Alain de Botton, British Philosopher

On my usual way to lunch to pick up a sandwich at Subway across from the Central Library, I made my way down Canton Street, past the Dog Park at Cesar Chavez Boulevard, around the curve to the intersection at Harwood Street when I saw him. He was a large man with full long greasy hair to his shoulders. I often see him in the area. The First Presbyterian Church's soup kitchen is near that intersection and many days he is sitting or standing along the outside wall. He is always dressed in bulky jeans and a heavy coat and he's always carrying in both hands old plastic sacks full of unidentifiable things. Food perhaps. Or items of clothing. Or maybe just stuff he has found along his daily sidewalk journeys down the lonely streets of the urban city. At the corner of Harwood and Canton (which becomes Young Street) is a small flower garden and fountain just outside the side entrance of the old large First Presbyterian Church. That's where I saw him. Several cars were in front ...

I have a great need to experience the sacred.  I think we all do. We live in times that so often desecrate the human spirit.  War, drones, gun violence, road rage, political wrangling, insatiable greed, sexual abuse, child abandonment, and all sorts of inhuman acts against one another too often occur which all serve to deaden our souls. The recent news of the man who systematically kidnapped three young girls in his neighborhood, who just decided to own them as his property, held them captive for years, sexually used them for his own entertainment, was unimaginable in its heartlessness.  How do those women, whose youth and teenage years and sense of self were taken from them, how do they recover from that kind of fiendish, barbaric treatment?  We see this on the news and something dies inside us.  It is so easy then to want to harden ourselves against the cruelty of others.  But in the process we lose our connection with the sacred. Each m...

In a Peanuts cartoon Lucy, Linus, and Charlie Brown are resting on the lawn one afternoon looking at the clouds.  Lucy speaks: “Aren't the clouds beautiful? They look like big balls of cotton. I could just lie here all day, and watch them drift by.  If you use your imagination, you can see lots of things in the cloud formations. What do you think you see, Linus?" "Well, those clouds up there look like the map of the British Honduras on the Caribbean... that cloud up there looks a little like the profile of Thomas Eakins, the famous painter and sculptor...and that group of clouds over there gives me the impression of the stoning of Stephen...I can see the apostle Paul standing there to one side." "Uh huh. That's very good. What do you see in the clouds, Charlie Brown?" "Well, I was going to say I saw a ducky and a horsy, but I changed my mind!”   I’m with Charlie Brown today.  I’m looking for the simple things in life.  Most of everythi...

“Beauty surrounds us.” ~ Rumi, Persian Poet