Sometimes You Just Have to Stop and Watch the Squirrels

This past weekend was hot here in Chicago, but I couldn’t resist sitting out on the patio in the shade for a little while. By this time of year, all the backyard critters are raising their young, or more accurately, trying to get them to move out. Hmm…that’s probably true of human parents too, but I digress.

Watching the goings on in the yard was immensely entertaining. Papa Grackle was still feeding his fully-fledged young who flew around with him wherever he went. The rabbits were ignoring the new generation of bunnies who ignored them right back. But the real show was Momma Squirrel and her wild offspring. Three young squirrels were zooming around the yard, chasing, playing tag, and hide-and-seek. One squirrel would hide on the branch of a bush while the others scampered hither and thither trying to find him. The hiding squirrel sat very still, even as his siblings were sniffing around under his bush. Eventually he was discovered and they all tore off after each other squeaking with joy.

One little squirrel in particular was impossible to ignore. He hounded his poor mother everywhere she went. Quite the momma’s boy. She’d be searching for seeds under the bird feeder, or looking for the peanut she buried under the lilies a month ago, and there he was at her heel. She’d go to take a drink in the pond, and there he was. She even tried running away and hiding herself, but he was always right there. He played with his siblings too, but he seemed to be especially attached to her. Once while she was snuffling for seeds under the bird feeder, he climbed one of the trees overhanging the area, crept out on a branch directly over her, and then with a squeak that I could swear sounded exactly like, “Geronimo!” he dropped on her back. Hilarity ensued.

She got him back though. Since it was hot, the squirrels stopped at the pond pretty regularly. While she was taking a drink, Junior decided to sneak up and pounce on her. She saw him though and ducked. Sploosh! In he went, quickly emerging looking sad and silly, and resembling a half drowned rat. The rabbit who was sitting nearby, twitched his nose at this undignified display.

So by now you’re probably thinking, “Yeah, great, you’ve got animals in your yard. Big deal. So do I. Is there a point to all this?” Well yes, there is a point. It is very, very easy in our hyper-fast, busy, crowded, technological age to become numb to the world around us. We become alienated from our environment to the point that we forget we are also part of it. Sitting and watching the squirrels, I could positively feel God’s joy over His creation. After all, God’s creation is an act of His love. When stopping to appreciate the beauty and diversity of all that God has made, one can only conclude that He must really enjoy making it. As a writer, I feel a tiny glimmer of that joy whenever I turn out a well-written paragraph. I’m sure you feel it too, when you complete some project that comes out well.

If God can be so happy over the very smallest of creatures, image what He must feel about you who were made in His image and likeness.

Blogger Day of Silence

Chewing Glass will participate in a Day of Silence, in solidarity with bloggers across the country, in order to protest the recent Maryland court ruling in the Aaron Walker case. Hot Air has a good summary with links at their site.

The First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States guarantees the freedom of speech. When anyone is allowed to intimidate another to abate their exercise of this right, especially when governmental bodies collaborate in that intimidation, it is the duty of us all to protest.

What now?

I’ll bet you’ve had the feeling, more than once in your life, of being completely unsure of what to do next. Everyone does. Sometimes the feeling is so overwhelming that it takes an extreme act of will to break through.

What I’m talking about here is distinct from The Naugahyde Soul. This is a case of, “There are so many things I need to do, but I don’t know where to start.” You feel them lurking in the background whispering to you, “When are you going to finish your taxes? When will you finish painting the bedroom? When will you start the next chapter of your book? When? When? When??”

The sheer number of pressing concerns causes us to panic or it may be the futile feeling that once we embark on a new project, it will turn out to be a waste of time. Maybe so. Deep down though, we know we need to make a start regardless of how it all turns out in the end. Maybe we have failed so miserably in the past that we can’t muster the courage to try.

A wise man once told me that, “When you don’t know what to do, do what you know to do.” Simple, solid advice. We all know what we need to do, we merely need to begin. Sure, it may not feel like you’re making headway, but I guarantee you, there will come a moment when you look up and see how much progress you’ve made.

Are there too many things that have to be tackled right now? Then pick the snake closest to you, the one that’s about to bite and kill it first. In my experience, once you take action, you realize that there was no need to panic in the first place. Everything can and will get sorted out. That new project may open doors you never dreamed of and if it doesn’t work out that way, just think of the wealth of new experience you can bank away for the future. Your past failures can be washed away with a sincere effort to try again.

The point is, to begin. And when you have begun, remember to begin again. Life is a continual battle to rouse yourself to begin again. When you’ve failed, when you’ve slowed down, when you’ve up and stopped.

There is an old story of the young monk who after falling into some sin, came to his spiritual father and said, “Abba, what shall I do, I have fallen.”

The Abba replied, “Then get up.”

“But I did get up and I’ve fallen again.”

“Then get up again.”

“Abba, how long shall I keep getting up?”

“My son,” said the old monk, “until the day you die.”

 

Life B.O.B.

You might like to know that there is a contingent of our society that worries about the impending implosion of civilization, and actively prepares for it. Some are what you might call survivalists. You see them on reality TV. Some are ex-boy scouts who, as you know, are always prepared. Some are ex-military, who have been trained to deal with the implosion of civilization, or ex-public safety officers who deal with it every day as their job. Others are just people with too much time on their hands. Whatever their background or personal reasons for concern, they do have a point.

Continue reading “Life B.O.B.”

Eduard Khil, R.I.P.

Eduard Khil, aka “Mr. Trololo”, has died at 77. His most unintentionally famous song became an internet meme a few years ago. To date the Youtube video has received well over 12 million views.  A winner of the People’s Artist of Russia award, he was a well respected singer in his homeland. He only learned of his worldwide fame through his grandson. By all reports, he was both pleased and amused by it.

Incidentally, the real name of his famous song, roughly translated from the Russian is, “I Am So Happy That I’m Finally Coming Home”. How very appropriate. Thank you Mr. Khil for making so many people smile. That’s not a bad epitaph for anyone.

 

The Grand Gesture

‘Round about this time of year, you see them. Some guy proposes to his girlfriend on the Jumbotron at a ball game, hires a billboard, or a skywriter, or projects “Will you marry me?” on the moon with lasers. This individual asks us all to join him in his grand gesture, supposedly to show what lengths he will go to in order to make his intended happy.

If she is won over by this lavish display, the resulting wedding will no doubt contain more flourishes and flounces than the most decadent Las Vegas stage show. Fast forward a few years, and this same couple is filing for divorce. What happened? How could their life together have failed so soon when it had such a spectacular beginning? Well, I’m not a marriage counselor; I don’t even play one on TV, but I do have a failed marriage in my past so let me give you my two pennies. Continue reading “The Grand Gesture”

You’re a What?

That’s usually the response when I tell people I’m a Benedictine oblate. I then patiently explain that oblates are laypeople who strive to live according to the Rule of St. Benedict and who have a spiritual affiliation with a particular monastery. More often than not, this falls well short of a satisfactory answer. Depending on the level of interest I perceive in my interlocutor, I may elaborate by explaining who St. Benedict is, and why someone should want to follow his rule. This discussion inevitably leads to the question, “Why? What do you get out of it?” This is a harder question to answer, because the answer, like my spiritual health, differs from day to day.

Like many people in recent years, I was drawn to monastic spirituality as a way to live an intentionally contemplative life in an increasingly noisy and frenetic world. Where I live, I am lucky to have many monasteries nearby, but I was particularly drawn to St. Procopius Abbey because of shared roots between the Abbey and myself. And, because it is a Benedictine trait to practice hospitality, the kind monks of the Abbey welcomed me like they have many others over their long history.

They allow me to share in their liturgy, and to a degree, their conventual life. But there is a distinct difference between them and me. My Oblate Director is fond of reminding us oblates that, “oblates are not little monks.” To be sure, there are those who wish to live like monks, and so are drawn to the monastery, but the vocation of professed religious is only for those who really have that calling. Those who seek the monastery in order to run away from life, not only fail in their quest, but also badly miss the point. This is as true today as when St. Benedict was alive.

The monastery is a school of obedience for those with a true calling to religious life. But as God is no respecter of persons, St. Benedict’s rule allows people from all walks of life to be pupils in this school to the degree appropriate for their manner of life. Just like the monk in the cloister, I am trying to find my way to heaven, which is the path to the knowledge of God, and His Son, Jesus Christ. As a Benedictine oblate, I am invited to walk that path alongside the monks; they inside the cloister, and me and my fellow oblates on the outside.

Radio Time Machine

Ooookay, we’d like to change the mood a bit now, gonna mellow it out…

Those of us who are–how shall I say it?–of a certain age, have difficulty relating to contemporary tastes in music. As Grandpa Simpson famously said, “I used to be with it, but then they changed what it was. Now what I’m with isn’t it, and what’s it seems weird and scary to me… it’ll happen to you!”¹

Well the other day, while doing my usual tour of favorite blog sites, one of them had a link to this wonderful item: The Radio Time Machine (powered by Rdio, a subscription music service with no ads). You can try it for free with limited functionality.

By moving the slide-bar, you can dial in your favorite year, from 1940 to present day, and hear selections from the Billboard Top 100 which play in a continuous loop. If you sign up for a free trial with Rdio, you can hear the whole song. Being a cheapskate myself, I doubt I’ll get a subscription, but boy it sure brought a smile to my face. Try it!

Wait a minute…is that?…oh wow, Grazing in the Grass! Man I love that song! Gotta go…

 

¹The Simpsons, Season 7, Homerpalooza