The Unclad Soul

It’s the beginning of a new week, and soon, a new month. Where did the time go? Weren’t we all swimming and grilling and taking vacations just a couple of weeks ago? Now the kids are all well into the school year. In a few days, it will be Halloween. And incredibly, it’s only 58 days until Christmas. Someone has said, “Life is not just the passing of time. Life is the collection of experiences and their intensity.” Well put. Not just a collection of experiences but also their intensity. Those are the moments that give life substance, affirmation, depth. Those are the times we remember. I attended a couple of birthday parties over the weekend. They were great times with family and friends I love. We shared food and drinks, laughter and fun, warm hugs and memories. There were children rolling in the grass, their tender faces bright with smiles, their small arms extended to receive squeezes and kisses. There were adult reminiscences, catching up on what’s new with on...

In my sleep, I was visited by a man in a flannel shirt with autumn colors in small squares. He wore a solid brown necktie unloosed at the collar. His hair was white and bushy, sort of like Einstein’s. He smoked a pipe and had the voice of Gandalf, Ian McKellen’s great character in The Lord of the Rings. There was nothing menacing or alarming about his presence. He spoke softly, quietly. His face was rugged and carried deep lines of age and wisdom.  His eyes, blue and intense, were nevertheless warm with soft light in them. He reminded me of my maternal grandfather whom I called Pop, a big loving man with a deep Southern drawl. I told the gentleman this and he said, “You can call me Pop if you want.” I said, “Ok.” “What troubles you?” he asked, as he put fresh tobacco in his pipe and lit it. It smelled of cherries or cloves or something sweet and delicious. “I wonder if I got it all wrong,” I said. “How so; got what wrong?” “People. Life. Meaning,” I said, a...

“Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever”, he told the boy. “You might want to think about that.” “You forget some things, don’t you?” the boy said. “Yes. You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget.”  ― From The Road , by Cormac McCarthy 

Memorial Reflections Dr. E.W. Mince December 27, 2011 There is that well known passage in the Old Testament where the writer speaks of the seasons of life: To everything there is a season, A time for every purpose under heaven: A time to be born, And a time to die; A time to plant, And a time to harvest what is planted; A time to make war, And a time to heal from war; A time to tear down, And a time to build up; A time to weep, And a time to laugh; A time to mourn, And a time to celebrate; A time to cast away stones, And a time to gather stones; A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing; A time to gain, And a time to lose; A time to keep, And a time to throw away; A time to pull apart, And a time to sew together; A time to keep silence, And a time to speak; A time to love, And a time to not love; A time of war, And a time of peace.[1] Dr. Mince understood and accepted the cycles of life. He was a seasonal man. He knew how to transi...