Tuesday, May 27, 2014

It Happened Again

It happened again tonight.  I stepped outside after dusk had fully become night.  And it hit me.  Nothing literally hit me; a thought, an idea, a feeling hit me.

I live far from the sounds of the village, or city.  At this time of the day, early night if you would, there's enough light in the sky, either from a receding sun, stars or the moon, to see the black shadows of tall Douglas firs reaching high over my head.  The only life besides that of nature is behind me in the house I just left.  It's cool, quiet, hardly a the rustle of a leaf in the trees, if even that.

I'm alone.  Not alone because I stepped out with no companion; alone because at that moment there is nothing but me and the ball I standing on, a ball so large and diverse that I will never see it all.  There may be billions more like me standing, walking, sitting, sleeping on other parts of this ball but because I am only me and can be no one or anything but me, I am alone--in myself.  I am singular.

My pace is steady, the strength is adequate, for living on this ball for seven decades I feel darn good.  The feeling I had is of comfort, of peace, of happiness, even a form of satisfaction.  There's something out there, not behind the Douglas fir or lying in a bush, something greater than all I know, greater than all collectively can know, something that makes me want to shout out that I am glad to be able to step out and be hit by this feeling.  Someone once called this something God; the name stuck.  Others have given it other names and because it comes to each of us individually and separately, none of us can fully understand or explain it.  One once wrote that "God" merely said that "I am."  So it may be.

Now I prepare to sleep through this night and as I lie down, before I become unconscious to this world, I will say "Thank you for another day on this beautiful earth among these wonderful people."

Sunday, May 25, 2014

Remembering Friends of Freedom and Peace on Earth

It's a good thing that I'm sitting home in the privacy of our living room, even Gail's left the room.  I hate to cry in public much less sob.  OPB is broadcasting the Memorial Day National Concert.

I'm never been in an army and certainly not in a war.  Nor were my brothers, father or grandfathers.  But, yes, I have friends and many acquaintances who have served in the military and also experienced battle.  Several completed their service far from their home and loved ones.

I hate war.  I never want to be a part of it.  I dream of a better way to end international differences, but, oh, how I appreciate those who think differently and are able to literally fight for our freedom.  We call this activity service, military service, and I think I understand service, and if I don't, I hope that I can move to a fuller understanding and an expression of the ultimate service.

I believe in service and I see the military doing service far more than fighting.  I regret that we have to shroud our service in the name of a country rather than all mankind.  I pledge my allegiance to peace on earth and all those to work to achieve it.  I pray all the families who have lost members in war and all servicemen and women who have sacrificed for a better world.

Remembering war is terrible; remembering friends, relatives, and those we don't know for serving in a way to protect our freedom, my freedom, is a honor.  You too can honor these heroes.  And don't forget for every heroes that crosses the seas to a foreign land, that are even more heroes here at home supporting them and each other.  In memory of all of them, I reach up and wipe aside my tears, not away, just aside.