The Unclad Soul

I attended Ingrid’s 4th & 5th grade Valentine's Dance last night at Larry G. Smith Elementary. She had been talking about this for weeks and wanted to know if she could go. Of course she could, I said. And she was so excited. But then I asked if parents were going and if I could go, too. She said she wasn’t sure about that and would have to get back to me. I asked if she would be embarrassed if I went with her and she sort of shyly grinned and I so I promised I wouldn’t get out on the dance floor in front of all of her friends and do the Glide, or the Fist Pump, or the Shuffle, or that thing kids today call cwalking. She giggled and said, “Oh Poppy.” Anyway, I bought our tickets and decided to go as a volunteer. I kept telling her she needed to pick out an outfit for the dance but she insisted that she was just going to wear her skinny jeans and “a cute top.” Hmmm, I thought. Okay. So we went to the mall and picked out a cute top which she didn’t end up wearing a...

In honor of African American History Month, a quote from Dr. King: "Wars are poor chisels for carving out peaceful tomorrows.” ~ Martin Luther King Jr.

Every morning when I leave my apartment complex I have to cross into a busy flow of four lanes of traffic to go pick up my little princess Ingrid and take her to school. Some mornings it is a daunting task crossing the incoming traffic and getting over to the other side going the opposite direction where I need to be. Most Dallas drivers are completely insane behind the wheel and morning rush hour only intensifies their frenzied irrational behavior. My particular morning start often feels like a scene out of Mad Max where Mel Gibson is being furiously chased by absolute maniacs. To get it right without missing cars by inches and elevating my blood pressure into near unconsciousness it requires two things: timing and courage. I have to make sure there is plenty of space on both sides to safely move out into an open lane. That’s the timing part. The courage comes in getting the right feeling, seeing a clear way, and then moving the heck out into the quickly closing window of opp...

Ingrid and I were strolling through Macy’s on our way to the food court in NorthPark mall. We walked by the men’s cologne section and I decided to stop to see if there was anything new on the shelves. I sniffed around a few things and finally sprayed on a little True Religion. It’s been around for awhile but I liked the scent. The rest of the afternoon whenever I would get a whiff of the cologne I kept thinking about the whole idea of true religion. I spent a lot of years studying religion, talking and writing about it, trying to figure out its mysteries and contradictions, its deep thoughts and arbitrary rules, its beautiful ideas and ugly prejudices. I am a Christian by family tradition, by parental influence, by focused exposure, by environmental coincidence, and as an adult, by choice. Had I grown up in India or Iran, Africa or China, Russia or Israel, I’m sure I would be something else. I do not believe any of us are destined or foreordained to be a Christian or to fo...

I was at Starbucks the other day to settle into a vanilla latte and do a little catching up on my reading. I’m trying to finish Tana French’s “The Likeness.” Which by the way is a fantastic novel. I was struck by how nearly everyone in the room was on their phone. Even couples or groups of people sitting together; they were all texting, or doing some kind of data or app stuff. No one was talking. Except one lone woman who was on her phone going on and on to an invisible person on the other end having some insipid discussion about flooring. Apparently she was remodeling her extravagant kitchen and couldn’t decide on a pattern or color or whatever. I’m not judging. I do it too. Check my email. Send texts. Search websites. Download tunes. We are all constantly on our phones. No one though really talks to anyone anymore. Our society is sick with inattention, blather, bullshit, indifference, blocked emotions, blank stares, or being lost in some smart phone fog. We really...

Children's books are often some of the best reading for adults. Here is a terrific little book that teaches our children and ourselves that everyone is different in one way or another and that is okay. Spirituality & Practice: Book Review: What If Your Best Friend Were Blue?, by Vera Kochan

After the red leaf and the gold have gone, Brought down by the wind, then by hammering rain Bruised and discolored, when October’s flame Goes blue to guttering in the cusp, this land Sinks deeper into silence, darker into shade. There is a knowledge in the look of things, The old hills hunch before the north wind blows. Now I can see certain simplicities In the darkening rust and tarnish of time, And say over the certain simplicities, The running water and the standing stone, The yellow haze of the willow and the black Smoke of the elm, the silver, silent light Where suddenly, readying toward nightfall, The sumac’s candelabrum darkly flames. And I speak to you now with the land’s voice, It is the cold, wild land that says to you A knowledge glimmers in the sleep of things: The old hills hunch before the north wind blows. ~ Howard Nemerov, American Poet There is so much beauty in the language of this poem. The words carry such solid wisdom. We are in this seas...