The Unclad Soul

National Public Radio (NPR) had a segment this week on the chaos in Libya. With more than forty years of rule under Muammar Gaddafi, Libya had become a thriving country. There were limited freedoms and an unbending system of laws, many of them harsh and restrictive. But the country held together while Gaddafi entered strategic partnerships with the U.S. and European powers, striking deals with defense manufacturers and oil companies. We were apparently fine with his dictatorial rule as long as there was something in it for us. Then, in the fall of 2010, revolt was moving through the Arab world. The U.S. government saw, once again, an opportunity for regime change. The rich oil reserves in Libya and other resources would be the spoils of a limited battle fully supported by the U.S. but mostly fought by NATO troops. Removing Gaddafi was never admitted to as a U.S. mission, but it was carried out nonetheless. It all went bad quickly, however. Gaddafi was beaten, sodomiz...

National Geographic Journalist Paul Salopek is walking across the world on foot to trace the pathways of the first humans who wandered out of Africa in the Stone Age to claim the earth as theirs. His journey will cover 21,000 miles and is estimated to take 10 years. He is four years into his massive expedition and already he has discovered that humanity is mostly kind and generous, welcoming and caring, hard-working and disciplined. I watched a brief piece about Salopek’s journey on the PBS News Hour this week. I have included a link below. What is extraordinary about his adventure is his realization that in spite of all the wars and turmoil across the globe, he has learned that “The world is an incredibly hospitable place.” In following the ancient trade route called “The Silk Road,” Salopek has gotten to know a variety of people young and old. And though he has so far encountered a few dangerous situations where he had his water supply stolen, was once ambushed by raiders, a...

“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...