When the world is filled with strife.
Like the simple vista
That best displays a life.
How lovely is sunshine,
On a cloudy day.
Or, when the earth is parched
A welcome bit of rain.
How soothing is music,
Or joyous laughter,
But most restful is
The quiet we’re after.
How relaxing is stillness
We hear from without.
But perfect is silence within
That resolves doubt.
The series this month investigates unexpected thoughts upon the ordinary. We live in an era of plenteous, inexpensive paper. More paper is dumped in the landfill than is recycled despite the fact that we are becoming conscientious about recycling. More paper is made for temporary use such as bathroom tissue and paper towels than is manufactured for books or newspapers. In many ways we are just beginning to come to grips with how much paper we use. Most of us are not willing to adopt cloth baby diapers, although I know mothers who have done just that.
As an avid reader the use of paper for books is something that I am aware of. I personally regard my books as long-term companions. I was appalled when I discovered the old, “brittle-books” and was shocked to discover some of the lengths that librarians were being forced to go to try to save books that were literally disintegrating. In the second part of the nineteenth century the “acid” paper production began and made paper manufacture cheap. The resultant cost reduction has been touted as one of the reasons for the dramatic increases in book production that occurred. Cheap books were not the only result. A century’s worth of literary output was put in jeopardy since the paper deteriorates at an alarming rate and becomes dust.
By the end of the twentieth century book producers had reduced the use of “acid” papers in favor of “alkaline” paper for all but mass market paperbacks. While I am grateful that most of my library is safe from the rapid self-destruction of acid paper, I bought a book a few weeks ago printed in England that turned out to be printed on the old foe. I bought it online and did not know it was printed on “acid” paper. Personally I don’t understand why any books are being printed on such paper. If you don’t intend to keep the book why don’t you borrow it from a library or read it on a digital device. Why do we need books printed on self-destructive paper?
We live in the unfortunate age where we must shred much of the paper we receive to avoid identity theft yet we still produce “acid” paper for some books! The advertisements for endless credit-cards do not appear to be on cheap paper. They are endeavoring to look as important as possible.
What responsibility does the Western consumer bear for the manufacture of so much of the world’s “acid” paper in China? They are not known for environmental considerations. Ought we be buying mass-market paperbacks on paper that is more dangerous to the local ecology if that environment is half-way around the world? I think not.
I love history and historic items. I don’t have any original Victorian papers, but I do think they are lovely. The collectors of the old calling cards, greeting cards, advertisements and other lithographs are hunting for the lovely pieces of the past that have endured. It is called the collecting of Ephemera since antique “bits of paper” are as ephemeral an item as exists.
These tiny scraps of paper tell us so much about the people who lived before. Their journals, letters and other ordinary records fill in the details of remarkable and simple lives alike. Their legacy is valuable. They tell of life in an epic age of expansion. We are moving further away from paper today. In some ways that is good, but in other ways I do find a bit of doubt.
How durable is our legacy if we are recording it with bits and bytes? They say that anything uploaded to the internet remains forever. However, will anyone have the tools necessary to read a blog from 2015 in 2080? This blog may not be important in the scheme of things, but could we be a part of something not much different from the “acid” paper debacle in our use of technology? We cannot know what lies ahead. Based on what we can learn from what went before, I think I should print paper copies of some of the precious photos I am storing on the “cloud” just in case I want to see them when I am an old lady.
Go:
The world is fading from green to gold. When I took that walk to the river yesterday I was disappointed that more of the trees had not taken on fall glory. Today I went grocery shopping and I noticed that the tress are more golden overnight.
Green is a color associated with growth. In the Church we are still in the season where the liturgical color is green. We still have green outdoors, but we know it will soon change. Today I am thinking that October green is a passing gift.
I need to be grateful for the still green grass. I want to thank God for all the shade the trees are providing. I am grateful for green hills. When the gold and crimson take over they will not last long. I must cherish the green because all too soon the Church will move on to Advent and I will need to dig out all that red and green for my house.
Stop:
I took a walk to the river today and I was delighted with the view. Today I understand why water-front property is so sought after. A family of ducks were out sunning themselves as I was there. All nature seemed to realize that perfect weather such as we had today is not a thing to be taken for granted in October.
I was disappointed that only a few trees had begun their golden show, but that will come soon and today was for basking in the sun-streaming blue.
Rivers are irascible things. Some days they are peaceful and patiently reflect the sky’s brilliant blue. No matter how serene a river may look it is never still. The current is always present pulling everything caught in their wake onward. The relentless movement reminds us that time is forever moving us on. Peaceful moments of bliss come, as does the inexorable current pulling us ever toward the sea.
While they usually flow within their banks rivers always have the potential to flood. A river actually is a large landowner. Most of the time they only use a small portion of what they own. There is always a much larger land area that the river owns, but leases to the surrounding purchasers on terms they do not always understand.
The river owns all the land in the flood plain. There is no charge from the river to the user of the land. People sell the land to one another. You may own a piece of the river’s land. It is yours to use as you see fit, but now and then in periods of excessive rain and/or snow melt the river will reclaim its’ rightful heritage.
Floods are not peaceful high-water. A raging current accompanies a flood. It will tear out shrubs, rip up small trees, topple and wash away lawn furniture and everyone’s garbage cans. When the water recedes debris will be everywhere. Flood-mud is sticky, thick sludge that will be left behind. It can be polluted, depending upon what sort of industrial or chemical storage the river flooded as well. Everything that was within its’ scope is mixed in a thick stew that is redeposited somewhere else.
After the clean-up mud will be left to mix in with the soil. In this ugly is actually the seed of renewal. In that mud is the topsoil that washed off the land upstream. It contains more than trash it also contains rich nutrients. Floods don’t just wash away carefully laid-out plans and landscapes. They also bring new beginnings.
Almost anything can grow in the rich soil of a flood plain. The banks of the Nile river were called the “breadbasket” of Egypt. Much of the ancient world relied upon Egypt for grain. In the middle of the twentieth century Egypt built a dam. It was a wonder of engineering. It also had an unanticipated negative impact on the productive power of the Nile basin’s crop production. Egypt began to need to import grain for its’ own use. Over thousands of years those living and working along the Nile lived with the difficulty of regular flood. In an effort to improve the situation they demonstrated on a massive and measurable scale how beneficial flooding actually is to agricultural production.
Living near a river has taught me about loss and rebirth. My thoughts and prayers are with all of those living with flooding. I have been blessed to live mainly just beyond the river’s usual reach. One can never be certain with a river. In the sixty years the home has been in the family the river has never come into the living space. I still hold respect for the river, since it has reclaimed the cellar on a number of occasions. The land around the house is on loan from the river and could be reclaimed next week. It has also deposited an incredible supply of rich topsoil. Anything will grow near the river. My walk today led past hollyhocks in a second flush, roses still profusely in bloom and one tree turned golden. Blessing and woe, I saw numerous dandelions also. River’s are beautiful and powerful. Respect and appreciate the wonders God made.
October begins the cooling of the Northern hemisphere. I stumbled upon the temperature in Fairbanks, Alaska this afternoon online. It is 34 degrees! That sounds like winter to me. For most of us fall can bring a welcome relief in the form of very comfortable temperatures. When I created the list of ordinary things to look at in a fresh way this summer I was inspired by a memory.
One year we had a flood that destroyed our hot water heater and furnace. Thousands of people were similarly situated and so it was over a month before we were able to have them replaced. It was late October when we received our new hot water heater and furnace. I was very appreciative of the fact that I doubt there is a month that was better for going without hot water, heat or air-conditioning.
I will always remember how the cold water running from the spigots cooled over the month of October. Early in October a shower with only cold water was hardly noticeable. By the middle of the month everyone in my family had switched to baths augmented by a couple large pots of hot water heated on the stove.
Each fall since I have been reminded of what a luxury hot, running water truly is.
It is easy to take such things for granted in life. In many places clean, running water is an unheard of luxury.
Even cold, fresh, running water is a blessing. Jesus talks about rewards to his followers in Matthew’s Gospel. Sometimes when He talks about drink rewards they are much more than something to drink.
Here He talks about a simple cup of cold water. Matthew records this in 10:40-42.
“Anyone who welcomes you welcomes me. And anyone who welcomes me welcomes the One who sent me. Suppose someone welcomes a prophet as a prophet. That one will receive a prophet’s reward. And suppose someone welcomes a godly person as a godly person. That one will receive a godly person’s reward. Suppose someone gives even a cup of cold water to a little one who follows me. What I’m about to tell you is true. That one will certainly be rewarded.”
Rather than tell us that we need pass out Starbuck’s cards to the homeless, Jesus tells us that even if we just hand out cold water to those who are thirsty, God sees our kindness and rewards us. No we don’t earn points toward heaven. None of us could ever earn heaven. Jesus earned that for us on the cross. The reward is God noticing and appreciating our efforts.
One thing that I have done in the past is prepare “Manna Bags” to pass out to beggars. They are gallon-size plastic bags containing a bottle of water, and single-serving size crackers, fruit cup, plastic spoon and fork, easy-open meat (like tuna), hand wipe, paper napkin and a note telling the person of God’s love. We made them at my church. I kept them in my car ready to pass out in traffic when waiting for a light. We had a local man who always had his dog with him, so I kept individual-serving dry dog food also.
Even bottled water to hand out would be wonderful. Try adding a label to the bottles with a word of grace like, “God loves you.”
It is easy for me to become distracted by the “great things” that should be done. Jesus points out in this passage that even the small things are important. A cup of cold water can be important enough for the maker of the universe to stop, perhaps say something like, “That’s my girl!” It isn’t only the grand gestures that matter. Hot water tanks or heaters are wonderful but even a simple cup of cold water is significant.
Every kindness we show to others is valuable. Isn’t life really made up of the small, everyday kindness that we give and receive.
Twice a week we will share a favorite book.
In November I will be participating in the “NaNoWriMo” or National Novel Writing Month.
So I will not post daily here at Pilgrim Journey Through Life, but I will post twice a week.
“The day is done and the darkness
Falls from the wings of night
As a feather is wafted downward
By an eagle in his flight.”
Thus begins the poem, “The Day is Done” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Since I was a young girl this has been one of my favorite poems.
In this poem Longfellow compares the passage of time to the way a feather falls. Gravity inexorably pulls the feather toward the ground. The feather, however, is aerodynamic and falls slowly as the air passes through it’s buoyant shape.A feather falls slower than most objects, but even a feather will silently, steadily fall.
Time sometimes falls like a meteor and other times it descends like a feather. Most often in my life, time rockets past me at the speed of light.
Only when I allow myself grace to pause does time slip slowly though my fingers like a feather.
Softly passing time sounds like a dream.
I have lived too much of my life without pausing to notice the day wafting toward night.
I have chased time. I cannot outrun the passage of months or even years. They slip by before I realize they have half begun.
I may not be able to catch time, but anyone can mark time. We mark the passage of time not on a clock, but by paying attention to the present.
I find the need to chase time because I am distracted by the future and my all-absorbing To Do List. If I were to notice now, and not tell myself that I will make time to be fully present when I finish ___ it is possible that I would be more satisfied with the passage of time.
There is always some “important” work that need attending. I do not remember what most of those things were. What was it that I was so consumed with ten years ago? I could guess, but I cannot tell you the specifics. Indeed, some of it was important. Some of what has consumed my life has not been as important as I thought. I have been distracted by the trivial more than once.
I need to make time to permit time to waft like a feather. This brings us to the crux of the matter. The first word in that sentence is the root of the problem. I. I cannot make time. No creature makes time. God, the Creator made time, we live within time. Hence, the statement, “I need to make time” is a priori wrong. As a human I will never be able to “make” time. Therefore, the time I will make is never. What can I do?
I can schedule time to notice. Scheduling time to be fully present seems incongruous. Unfortunately, it is the best that I can do. I live in 2015. Time is precious I want to make the most of the time that I have. The most effective way that I have found of doing this is to schedule reminders. Funny how we have become so programmed by our fast paced lifestyle that we schedule and set alarms to remind us to fully live. Do any of you, readers, have a favorite method to notice the present?
I will let you know how the scheduling “now time” to slow time works. The day once descended into evening as slow as a feather. It ought to be possible for me to slow down and let time waft a little.
Proverbs 15:1-4
A soft answer turns away wrath,
but a harsh word stirs up anger.
The tongue of the wise dispenses knowledge,
but the mouths of fools pour out folly.
The eyes of the Lord are in every place,
keeping watch on the evil and the good.
A gentle tongue is a tree of life,
but perverseness in it breaks the spirit.
In days of old Kings had retainers who were supposed to act as a filter since most of the government resided in the King himself.
He was the head of the highest court, head-of-state, the treasurer worked directly for him and the coffers were his to use as he saw fit.
He made wars, levied taxes, made laws and lead his armies into battle.
One man cannot accomplish this alone, so they developed loyal men who worked with them to make the government function.
They had no internet, blogs, post office, newspapers or telephones. The only way news travelled was by word of mouth or passed hand to hand in a letter that could only be read by a few since most people, even most Kings were illiterate.
The dependability of a persons’ word was of paramount importance.
That is one of the reasons kings depended upon their retainers being incorruptible. When the men a king relied upon could be bought or were foolish the king could die.
Today we suffer from “information overload.” Cynics start to expect dishonesty. We no longer recognize a person’s word as worth a life.
Human beings are still the same, however. How many lives have been destroyed by lying words?
Marriages die from falsehoods. Livelihoods are lost from gossip. Bullying words relentlessly hounding young people driving them to wish for death.
Unkind words are still wrong.
We all fail. Foolish talk escapes us all at times. Sincere apologies are the appropriate response. Let us honestly reflect upon and seek to use only words that build one another up. Encourage each other.
Gentle words matter.
Now is still the time to speak love, friends.
My last flush of roses are blooming today,
Fragrantly unfolding on this crisp October day.
Autumn’s chill is sharpening the air
And the profusion of roses are as big as they dare.
From semi-double to two-hundred petals
They are gloriously beautiful, but have thorns sharp as nettles.
Their beauty isn’t diminished by their armor for me,
I know that such loveliness must be protected from thieves.
A chilling breeze sweeps down from the north,
Turning leaves on the trees to yellow, crimson and orange.
But, the roses blossom in shades of summer true,
And the last forget-me-nots add their touch of blue.
Are October’s roses more sweetly endowed,
Or is it the season that enamours the crowds?
Are roses more lovely in the autumn breeze
Because soon to follow is winter’s freeze?
Sweaters, Merriam-Webster lists them as knitted or crochets garments.
The first use of the term comes from the 15th century. That is about the time that knitting first began. Prior to this if you needed some extra warmth you were dependent upon a cape or shawl.
With the development of knitting it first became possible to have a garment that had some stretch. Trying to move your arms and shoulders freely was difficult unless you wore a loose-fitting garment. Conversely, loose-fitting clothing for warmth, like a cape, allows quite a bit of air flow up into the garment decreasing its ability to keep you warm.
In the 21st century we have threads that have stretch and we love materials that have fibers like Lycra and spandex woven into them.
We have the advantage of being able to keep warm and comfortable without considering how for centuries those were mutually exclusive objectives.
When they first came on the scene a sweater was a marvel of new technology.
Today a sweater is a symbol of coziness. It resonates as comforting.
Sweaters can be works of art or works of love when they are hand knit. Or they may be called, “ugly” when they are mass-produced gaudy.
The sweater depends upon who made or purchased it and how they fit the wearer. It is easy to take a sweater for granted. Most of us have drawers full of cardigans and pull-overs with which we keep ourselves warm and comfortable.
If you are a knitter you know they extent of the labor involved in making a sweater. It does not consist simply in the sheer quantity of the thousands of stitches, but also in the complications involved in shaping the piece to fit the body.
Let it be sufficient for me to say that if you ever happen to be the recipient of a hand-knit sweater you are extraordinarily loved.
A completed sweater no matter how poorly made is a masterpiece of hope, plan, labor and hopefully skill.
To knitters who wish to attempt this Everest of knitting, tell the recipient, make sure they like the design and take repeated measurements and fittings throughout the process.
To attempt a surprise is tempting fate and will like result in a complete waste of your time and considerable money.
A well-made hand-knit sweater will fit the recipient exactly. Unlike ready to wear it is a personal garment.Treasure the sweater for the love that it represents, even if you hide the offending item when the maker is not around.
pilgrim journey through life 