The Unclad Soul

I recently spent a week house sitting  and caring for my son’s dogs while he and his bride were on their honeymoon. They live on a ranch in southeastern Oklahoma. Luke (my son) manages the property there and the livestock. It’s a beautiful, peaceful area surrounded by thick trees and steep hills with a vast set of trails Luke has restored or created inside the brush and timber. There are deer, and turkeys, wild hogs, and fish in several ponds. Tawna (my new daughter-in-law) owns a barbershop a few miles away with customers from all around. Luke and Tawna are amazing. I spent over a week there looking over things, mostly just playing with the dogs and watching the rain. A ranch hand did all the chores that needed doing. I watched the news and a movie or two, read some, did a little writing, ate like a king, and enjoyed the quiet, the fresh air, the sounds of rustling leaves in the breeze, and the soft pelting of rain on the roof. The dogs—Gus, Maggie, and Trapper—were ...

Poet Andres Fernandez has written, “Do not just slay your demons, dissect them, and find what they have been feeding on.” This is the work of therapy. Although you could attempt it on your own as well. The best therapists are insightful listeners. They help us talk about what is bothering us, what may be haunting or disturbing or frightening us that we have been unable to either admit or face. Within the protection of the therapist’s office, we are able to confidently say what we might not otherwise be able to say to anyone else. There is enormous freedom in that if we are indeed able to experience it, to open up and say what we feel. “I hate my parents but I pretend I love them.” “I’m having an affair.” “I drink too much.” “I am terrified that someone at work will see how incompetent I really am.” “I can’t stand my husband/wife.” “My kids have completely disappointed me.” “I was sexually abused as a child.” “I am afraid I will be abandoned by those who love me.” T...

I saw him as I pumped gas in my car at the Shell Station. It was hot outside and he was sitting in the shade in front of the convenience store. An older man, thin, African American, with a scruffy two or three-day growth of white stubble and shaggy salt and pepper hair. As I walked into the convenience store to get a soft drink he smiled at me with uneven teeth. There was a warmth in his smile. He didn’t ask for anything. But I knew he was there to accept any change anyone might give him. I returned to my air-conditioned car and stared at him for a minute. As I drove out I went around to where he was and rolled down my window. I motioned for him to come over. He slowly got up and walked to my car. “Yes sir?” he said. I handed him some cash and said, “What is your name, friend?“ He said, “Carl.” I said, “You have a good day, Carl.” He smiled and put his hands together and bowed and said, “Oh, God bless you, sir. God bless you.” I don’t know his situation. But whatever it is I f...

This is one of my favorite poems by writer Jorge Luis Borges: “Writings of light assault the darkness, more prodigious than meteors. The tall unknowable city takes over the countryside. Sure of my life and death, I observe the ambitious and would like to understand them. Their day is greedy as a lariat in the air. Their night is a rest from the rage within steel, quick to attack. They speak of humanity. My humanity is in feeling we are all voices of that same poverty. They speak of homeland. My homeland is the rhythm of a guitar, a few portraits, an old sword, the willow grove's visible prayer as evening falls. Time is living me. More silent than my shadow, I pass through the loftily covetous multitude. They are indispensable, singular, worthy of tomorrow. My name is someone and anyone. I walk slowly, like one who comes from so far away he doesn't expect to arrive.”  There is so much yearning in these words. Such honest beauty. Borges expresses hope ...

I have not been to church in a long while. For someone who spent so many years in the church it sometimes surprises me that it is no longer a vital part of my life. A few years ago I would sometimes slip into the Cathedral Santuario de la Virgen de Guadalupe in downtown Dallas. It’s a beautiful, sacred space. There are daily masses both in English and Spanish. Inside the sanctuary is a large, life-like crucifix of Jesus and other smaller but elaborate sculptures of biblical scenes. The Cathedral was built in 1902 and has been through various renovations and is today a vibrant and popular place of worship for Catholics. I have many issues with the Roman Catholic Church, and the institutional Church in general. And I have no interest whatsoever in the giant mega evangelical churches that remind me of convention centers or entertainment venues. But there, in the quiet of the Cathedral, I have often felt something deeply spiritual stir within me. For some time now, church...

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.” There is a story out of the days of Napoleon when the mad genius was plowing through Europe with fury. In the midst of battle one of his soldiers, just a boy really, was caught running away. Napoleon sentenced him to death. The young man’s mother pleaded for a hearing before the Emperor. When it was agreed, she told the Emperor the boy had been frightened, was too young to understand all that he was fighting for and against. She asked for mercy. Napoleon said the soldier had deserted his post, had betrayed his country, and left his comrades in danger. He said he did not deserve mercy. The woman said, “But your Eminence, if he deserved it, it wouldn’t be mercy.” Can we show mercy to Donald Trump? Can we look beyond his bravado and outrageousness to see the pretender he is? A frightened and insecure man operating from a deep need to be approved, praised, and loved. A man who can, in limited capacities, show love to others. Ca...

Here’s a spoiler alert: we all make mistakes. That had to be said just in case someone thinks because they have cleaned up their life or because they’ve never had an affair or never abused alcohol or because they believe in God or because they go to church or because they have money or because they’ve never failed badly that they are just fine. Maybe. But I would be cautious. Chances are they’re about to mess up sometime soon; because that’s just part of being a normal human being. There is a character in Barbara Kingsolver’s terrific novel, The Poisonwood Bible, who laments: “I've swallowed my pride before, that's for sure. I'm practically lined with my mistakes on the inside like a bad-wallpapered bathroom.”  That has it about right for most of us. A friend of mine recently went through a tough patch of self humiliation. The details are not necessary, just that he’d had a long day of good food and beer (mostly beer) and had over indulged. The situatio...

The Semana Santa, as they call it in Spain, or Holy Week, begins for Christians all over the world soon. You know the historic story and the familiar scenes of the trial of Jesus and his final journey to the Cross. It is an epic story, a story filled with drama and cruelty and mystery and love. What is it really about? The classic Christian interpretation tells us we are all sinners lost without hope. We were born ruined, the children of the first parents, corrupted by their selfishness, by their ignoring God’s command to stay away from the Tree of Knowledge, and supposedly by their wanting to be like God. As the sons and daughters of Adam and Eve whose sin we inherited and are sure to repeat, according to classic Christian theology, we are all to be punished and sent to hell. So Jesus came to die for our ruined souls. He died in our place so God would not send us to hell. He paid the ransom for us, we are told. His physical death took care of our spiritual debt. He then rose ...

The Public Broadcasting System (PBS) often shows between programs a photo of Earth from space with its swirling clouds and blue oceans. Then there appears this tagline: The World Find your way I love that sentiment. It speaks of belonging. It affirms all humanity. It challenges us to discover where we fit in. It asks us to make our individual contribution to the world. Finding our way is a colossal human quest. The question, “Why am I here?” has universal implications. What does my life mean in the whole scope of things? That’s what we all want to know. How do we find our way in the world? We find it through education. I want to say that education should never be something we fear. Some people are simply afraid to know more. It feels safe knowing what we know. But life expands into astonishment and wonder when we allow ourselves to learn new things and to accept new ideas. It takes us to new places of self discovery. It helps us understand others. It deepens o...

“By declaring that man is responsible and must actualize the potential meaning of his life, I wish to stress that the true meaning of life is to be discovered in the world rather than within man or his own psyche, as though it were a closed system. I have termed this constitutive characteristic ‘the self-transcendence of human existence.’ It denotes the fact that being human always points, and is directed, to something or someone, other than oneself--be it a meaning to fulfill or another human being to encounter. The more one forgets himself--by giving himself to a cause to serve or another person to love--the more human he is and the more he actualizes himself.” ~ Viktor Frankl, Man in Search of Meaning

Live life fully while you're here. Experience everything. Take care of yourself and your friends. Have fun, be crazy, be weird. Go out and screw up! You're going to anyway, so you might as well enjoy the process. Take the opportunity to learn from your mistakes: find the cause of your problem and eliminate it. Don't try to be perfect; just be an excellent example of being human. -- Anthony Robbins, Author & Motivational Speaker