The Unclad Soul

“It's all a matter of paying attention. The magic in this world seems to work in whispers and small kindnesses.” ~ Charles de Lint, Canadian Writer

Ingrid, who will be 15 next month (unbelievably), is at dance camp this week. This one is two hours away in a university setting. This is her first time to be away by herself from her family and from me. We went shopping the other day for some outfits for her. Each day of camp has a theme and the girls were encouraged to wear things that fit with those themes as they work on their routines. So she picked out some things. Ingrid rarely likes what I like for her. Maybe it’s a girl thing, or just being a teen. I’d pull something off the rack and say, “What about this, sweetie?” She’d hold it up in front of her and say, “I’m not feeling it.” And hand it back to me. That happens a lot, actually. But, I don’t mind. She has good taste and besides, I love her independence, the fact that she knows what she likes and it doesn’t have to be what I like. She found things that fit her feelings, that express who she is, things that out in the middle of the dance workouts, will feel g...

“Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness, you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho lies dead by the side of the road. You must see how this could be you, how he too was someone who journeyed through the night with plans and the simple breath that kept him alive. Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow. You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows and you see the size of the cloth. Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore, only kindness that ties your shoes and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread, only kindness that raises its head from the crowd of the world to say It is I you have been looking for, and then goes with you everywhere like a shadow or a friend.” ~ Naomi Shihab Nye, Poet/Author

There are secrets that are frozen In the deepest places of our soul. They cannot be unearthed, Yet they cannot be unknown. We have dreams that are lost In the recesses of our sleep. We have longings too deep to reach Across anxieties we cannot breach. There are spaces for love We hold for future opportunities. They are kept in the privacy Of our simple soulful duties. We have a heavy broken burden That we carry through the years. It’s a wistful painful memory Of our losses soaked in tears. There are questions we still can’t answer, Things we wearily want to know. But life is not an easy equation One can quickly solve and own. There are journeys alone to take And experiences with others to share. There are changes we have to make And realities we have to bear. And finally accept the mystery of things We cannot ever know. And find the hard fought truce within That if we honor lets us grow. © 2017 Timothy Moody

I attended the funeral of an old friend this week. He owned the funeral home in the last town where I was a minister for the 14 years I was there. Several years ago he retired. I so admired him. He knew how to comfort people caught in some horrible grief. He had a calming presence. He was professional in every way. He chewed on these great dark cigars and one day I asked for one. He smiled and gave me three and from then on anytime I wanted one he handed them over. On the way back from cemeteries we often talked about God and death and the people we loved. He was an amazing father and grandfather. He taught me to listen, to observe, to not be so concerned with comments or answers for hurting people, but to just be a presence for them. He was my friend. I was not close to my father. He was a good, moral man. He provided for our family. But he was often indifferent to his children. I knew he loved us, but he seemed incapable or not interested in really knowing any of us. He shared s...

Cultural critic and novelist, Daniel Quinn, has written, “There’s nothing fundamentally wrong with people. Given a story to enact that puts them in accord with the world, they will live in accord with the world. But given a story to enact that puts them at odds with the world…they will live at odds with the world. Given a story to enact in which they are the lords of the world, they will act like lords of the world. And, given a story to enact in which the world is a foe to be conquered, they will conquer it like a foe, and one day, inevitably, their foe will lie bleeding to death at their feet, as the world is now.“ Some of us grew up in a time when the church, the school, the government, and society at large, gave us a story to believe that asked us to live in accord with the world. There were always pockets of cynics, bullies, bigots and screwballs who rebelled and remained trouble makers attempting to divide people and communities. But for the most part, people tried to get al...

“Laughter’s the nearest we ever get, or should get, to sainthood. It’s the state of grace that saves most of us from contempt.” ~ John Osborne, Playwright