A play retirement is less than meaningless to me—because perhaps I see the things at which people play as meaningless—golf, lolling on the beach, taking a cruise to islands for shopping and drinking. Yet for me, conversing, facilitating conversing, studying spirituality and philosophy—these are my play. For me there is an undeniable qualitative difference.
:- Doug.
Life is equal parts planning, improvising, chance, destiny, peril, proceeding, withdrawal, engaging, reflecting, emerging, growing, flowering, going to seed, dying, and a thousand more. Start anywhere.
:- Doug.
He is leading. Where has he led us? Into contention, scandal, and narcissism: in a word, disarray.
:- Doug.
Accept and applaud this one’s response especially if you feel it is off your course, or varies from what you are conveying. You make the effort. Don’t push away. Bring this one along. This one is moving, coursing. And who knows? You may be the one off course—or both courses be right!
:- Doug.
Just what is this thing we call intuition? Is it the flower of years of development, unnoticed seeing, opening now, just now? Said from another angle, spirit filtering through the meandering clouds?
:- Doug.
All your life
gathering unnoticed
now a new stage develops
you can if you choose
nurture—elder—
grandchildren, community, world
with nuance, story, question, and hearing
:- Doug.
We can give one another their voice and our ears. It is a small thing. It is the biggest thing. We will.
:- Doug.
Things we pick up along the path
Sticks and shiny pebbles
Memories of bird song and laughter
Smiles and tears and morphing clouds
Camp fires and songs we love
Of these we compose
Our mosaic lives
:- Doug.
Mosaic artist: in a sense that is my work. People come to me when their lives have become shards. Dad has just gone into the nursing home. Mom is forced to new tasks when she just wants to be a wife. Bills are unimaginably high. The children are helping—in pieces. Nothing makes sense, pieces of our lives are scattered. My work is to help these people piece together the beauty and goodness out of the new truth of their lives.
:- Doug.
The cross calls us to divine humanity, to touch and be touched, to soften, to be kind and heartful. To turn, return.
:- Doug.
The sacrifice
the cross
“forsaken me”
resurrected our
power to relate
:- Doug.
The soft fresh
green leaves
in the sunshine
in the breeze
are smiling
and I in the
fountain’s babbling
:- Doug.
This is the day to be in the stream immersed floating breathing helping morphing seeing hearing pointing out the beautiful clouds and flowers. Friend!
:- Doug.
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