Karen's Farewell to Farah (from 'Out of Africa')

At the end of her time in Africa, Karen Blixen was preparing to leave for Denmark, knowing she would never return.  This is her farewell to Farah, her servant who had been her friend during her entire time there:

• Karen: Farah, do you remember how it was on safari? In the afternoons I would send you ahead to look for a camp, and you would wait for me.
• Farah: You can see the fire and come to this place.
• Karen: Yes. Well, it will be like that. Only this time I will go ahead and wait for you.
• Farah: It is far, where you are going?
• Karen: Yes.
• Farah: You must make this fire very big - so I can find you.

What a healing and powerful image - that when we lose somebody from our lives they are going ahead, and building a fire for us to one day follow.  

My prayer is that as we live our lives—and as we pass into whatever lies beyond—that we will always build fires large and enduring enough that those we love will be able to find us, and that we will seek the fires others have built for us. 

http://www.metacafe.com/watch/an-Vngp7J7m4hbm72/out_of_africa_1985_separating_from_farah/  

How to Treat People

Buck sat quietly for a bit, stirring the campfire back to life with the poker.  Then he turned to the young man and began, “Son, knowin’ how to treat people ain’t rocket science. Only two things you need to know; If they’re strangers, treat ‘em like they was Jesus, like he says you should. Book of Matthew, if memory serves. 

"If you do know them … especially if you love them”.  As he looked back down, the fire reflected in his eyes, “if you love 'em, then every time you’re with ‘em, you’ve got to treat ‘em like it's the last time.”

He got up, and stepped away from the fire, then stopped with his back to the others, and added, "Cuz sure as hell, when you least expect it, you'll find out it was."

Sainthood

It is not absolute certainty, or a lack of existential doubt or anguish, that defines a saint. Those are the prerogatives of zealots and fools, not of saints.  Rather, it is within the crucible of doubt—when one’s behavior bolsters the faith of others—that sainthood is manifest.

Multnomah Falls - Larch Mountain Hike

Jazzmine and I had our longest hike ever on Tuesday; may have been the longest hike of my life - not sure.  I took the day off, and we hiked from Multnomah Falls to the top of Larch Mountain. I get jaded about Multnomah Falls – the old Yogi Berra saying, “Nobody goes there anymore. It’s too crowded.” But it’s crowded because it’s amazing, and it attracts people from all over the World.

Above Multnomah Falls, the crowds disappear, but the natural beauty remains.  Within a half-mile of the top of the falls are two other waterfalls, and a variety of beautiful rapids.  This is Wisendanger Falls.  You encounter this view as you round a bend, and the trail begins to ascend to the right through a series of switchbacks.   

The trail continues along Multnomah Creek for another mile and a half or so, including three crossings.  Then it emerges into a clearing, and follows a rockfall for a ways before going back into the woods. 

Back in the woods, the trail got steep again, and soon the clouds that had been overhead all morning became fog at my level.  About this time, I began seeing patches of snow on the ground here and there.  As we continued, these became more frequent, until at the top, we were in a snowfield about a foot deep.  As I began to feel the first signs of frostbite in my fingers, I realized that I had lost my Army surplus wool gloves somewhere along the trail; Jazzmine found them on our way down, but by then we were back below the snowline again - 'Bad Dog ... No biscuit!' 
Just kidding ... Good Dog! 

It was a sweet hike down.  I had to be careful with my footing, since my legs were a bit rubbery, but it was really gorgeous.  Near where the East Fork joins the main flow of Multnomah Creek, I noticed this rock bowl along the trail, which I hadn't seen on the way up.  When I grabbed my camera to line up a shot, it seemed that the combination of the rock bowl and the stump behind it made a nice looking natural altar.  Altar seems the appropriate term; I had found the entire day to be a validation both of the beauty of God's creation, and of the amazing, evolutionary adaptations that characterized the land and the life I witnessed there.  It would feel right to me to take the holy sacraments here, then dance naked laps around it. 

We really are blessed to have such a beautiful area be so accessible.  I have wasted too many years, and have missed too many opportunities to go up there.  But each morning is a chance to change course, and since my legs have begun leading me more frequently to Columbia Gorge hiking trails, I have never looked back. 

I'll continue to go to our brick and mortar church, but will try to make it often to the services I enjoy here.

The Source of Happiness

What is the path to enduring happiness?  Is it by achieving wealth or fame? Maintaining good health? Staying close to your family, or your faith?

My Angel atop Angel's Rest

Each of these can contribute to happiness. But none is essential, and ultimately none is sufficient. They are stones – which may be a foundation for happiness, or hurled as weapons against it. 

Wealth is a wonderful enabler.  It can help you see the world, and perhaps make a positive difference in it.  But wealth may also engender a sense of entitlement, and can alienate us from those who have less. 

Fame is an attractive goal, but one which—once attained—often becomes a trap from which many famous people would gladly flee to anonymity.

Good health is appreciated most when it is absent, or newly regained. The novelty of mobility, or a pain-free easy breath is short-lived, and soon taken for granted.  

Our families can be our foundation of strength, but may also be the dull knife that reopens painful childhood wounds.

And faith—which we would look to as the ultimate font of happiness—sometimes serves instead as a forum from which prejudice, chauvinism, and hatred are expressed and reinforced. Religious faith has inspired incredible generosity and sacrifice; but has also been the driving force behind some of the most vicious acts of pitiless cruelty in history.

Each of these stones can be part of the foundation of true happiness, but on their own, they are not stable.

Whether one possesses but one of these, all of them, or none at all, a spirit focused on gratitude for that endowment is the mortar which holds them together. And a spirit of generosity—the natural extension of that gratitude—is the glue that creates families, communities, and ultimately unites us all as human beings.

Siren Song

In times of economic insecurity and rapid societal change, voices of fear and intolerance may make sense. These are siren songs; they seem easy and attractive, but they lure our society onto the rocks of disunity and destruction.

We achieve our potential only when we embrace one another, bonding across the full range of religious, racial, ethnic, and all other manifestations of the human experience.

The Same River Twice

It’s said that you never step in the same river twice; which is true, except for that one you have to cross when you finally go home again.

Balance

Punches landed and blows absorbed; zingers delivered and crow eaten; hearts broken and heartbreaks endured.  The lesson of adulthood is that these pairs don’t offset one another; they all sit upon the same side of life’s scale, and are only balanced by sincere forgiveness, joy and laughter shared, and the realization that we are all one.

This has taken me so long to learn - and the lesson is so easily set aside still.