Living from the mountain, with Paris and Ireland and every city park I’ve ever loved, somehow within me now, as I follow the dream of poetry which runs down the mountain into the valley of forgetfulness, where Jesus works. But where we forget the mountain, where we really live. My middle name means the Mount, because that is where I’m from. I go back often to the mountain to recall my Source. But mostly i live along the stream of poetry running from the mountain. This stream is living word water, and is the brook David wrote of—the one he was lead by-those still waters. Mine are less still, more like a babbling brook, but they are fresh, and carry re-freshment into the valley where we all forget our names.
This week i went again to the top of a mountain—as i love mountains, ridges, and rivers most! Parks maybe next, because all the people are just being themselves in parks.
It’s good to know your repeated or recurring metaphors in life. The places you go, which remind you of your real self.
They also reveal which parts of heaven you already live in.
Noticing your metaphors also helps keep you on your path, the path prepared beforehand to be your way.
I also the in between—airports, train stations and any place which reminds me of pilgrimage. That’s a big part of my identity. Most of my best poems occur between here and there. Like even this little meditation on knowing your core metaphors in life. Where you meet God, tends to reveal who you really are.
Sometimes God asks me to hang out in places which are less like me, just to be with and get to know His Son more. I don’t mind deserts, but I’m a green mountain myself. But sometimes I learn more about Him in the wilderness spaces. But He always takes me back to the mountain, the high places, the vistas—and rivers ridges and rims are my home!

Great books remind us that the mountain and melody is still there. So in the valley of forgetfulness where we mostly all live, it is good to read, to pray, to listen each day. But we also sometimes must return up the mountain to remember our names, so that we can bless others in theirs. Too much valley creates despair; too much mountain perhaps so much rarefied ecstasy that we are no longer useful to humanity. There’s a dance, or a climb and then a walk or run down a hillside beside a stream of poetry we offer to others. Or, at least that’s how it is for me!

Each of us has a spiritual landscape within us. We often discover that, by the external landscapes we are drawn to in life. I am drawn to mountains, rivers, parks and gardens, cities and artists.

Our inner identities are often revealed to us by what we are drawn to in the outer world. We each have recurring metaphors, which at first are “out there” but as we get older, become more internalized.

Mountains, beautiful poetic people, parks, rivers, and ridges are some of mine. Like thinking about finding my internal landscape by looking at what I’m drawn to around me.

Sometimes we have to return to these core metaphors in life to recall our names, and remind us of your story. I often trace the poetry stream back up to the top of the mountain to recall mine.

What are your recurring metaphors in life, and what do they say about who you are? Which places or things are you drawn to for refreshment and remembering your core self or identity? Those places probably symbolize your “home above” or it’s texture. What your spaces in heaven are like. There is a continuum down here. Jesus always will take you to those places to remind you of who you are, and how He made you. At times, He also guides you elsewhere to stretch you, or help you appreciate other’s lands. But it’s good to know your own!

In the valley of forgetfulness, where most of live, it’s hard to remember our names. One way is to remember the central metaphors which you keep returning to in your life. Do you return to the sea, the mountain, the rivers, a park, a dog walk, coffee house (all these say something about who you are)–where do you feel most yourself? That probably is part of your “internal forever identity” as the monks call it–that is where you feel most yourself, is probably a symbol of who you really are.

For example, my most overt ones are Paris, San Fran, and ireland, and specifically their rivers, mountains and parks. This says much about who i am. I like rarefied places. Places of high vista, and places where rivers are flowing, places which flow between cities and nations and rural and urban, connecting things, carrying hope’s words, and parks, places where people de-mask from their days are just join the trees children and dogs in being. These places for me, are where i feel the most myself. Knowing these central metaphors helps me live as my poem and pray authentically. They help me recall my name, when i feel lost.

It helps me if I forget my way (ironically, my name means way, so you would think that wouldn’t be a problem; it’s good to know your name, my literal name is way, mountain, and servant–so the way to the mountain who serves), to return to these sorts of places. They have become “spiritual” to me in this sense. They symbolize and I think, participate in the spiritual reality to which they point. In heaven, i live i places like these already. And I even think, these spaces participate already in that realm.

But the practical, for most people, is they can’t “remember where they are from!” I mean REALLY from. Which means, they can’t recall their names. And in the valley of forgetfulness where most of us live, it’s easy to forget our real names, and then one another’s. When we do, the world is just something we use to try to desperately “get home”. But, we are closer to home than we think daily!

But home is always here, identity and purpose always near! The Sacred mountain, we are always living near is just a stream or park, or walk away! We just must trace the stream of living word, which always sounds like our most loved self, up the hill towards The Source. If this sounds too esoteric. I just mean, if you like baseball games, traveling, walking in nature, it probably says something about who you really are, and your pathway in life. Find those recurring metaphors, and you’ll start to hear your name whispered. Many of mine are geographical, as i like travel–mountains, rivers, ridges and parks-are a few of the places i hear my name in.

And as i get older, those places have gotten more internalized in me. I don’t have to be in them all the time, to remember my name, as i did when young! As we get older, we know what we like, as they say, but also we don’t have to have the outer experience to know the inner! I really think as we get older, we internalize our favorite metaphors. If we like to fish, we know that as part of who we are, not just what we “do”!

Last night, at dusk (my favorite time of day) in a nearby park, could’ve been any park, in any major city, but it was one i know well, tree by tree. I was watching dogs get their last run in before evening turned fully to night, and there was a moment where i just felt us all like a great tree of life through generations, still playing with our kids and the squirrels, expiring the day, and our frustrations together. Young lovers under the trees, leaning far too deeply already into one another, the lonely french lady who only has her dog to walk now, the cafe workers who just got off, and desperately need a bottle of wine, and a poet or two like me, just watching us all–anyway; at that moment, i remembered, i am one who likes to just sit with the daily theater of life and appreciate how beautiful it is. That park reminded me I was a seer and be-er; one who likes to just resonate with things deeply. To be with the trees in wonder, and the kids, and tired parents, and restless dogs…that park reminded me who i am.

That’s how our central metaphors work in life. They remind of and lean us towards, our forever or eternal names, which always are waiting to break into our days.

One way back towards the mountain where our names reside and are Sourced, is to trace the stream of living word uphill. And there is always a stream of life nearby to guide you back to the meaningful path you were born to live on!

For instance, i often return to San Fran and stay in an old art farm house on a very high hill. That metaphor is one I easily can wear. The space helps me remember who i am, where I’m at, and where I’m heading on my journey! I feel at home in high places but which are grounded in nature and very authentic, and have a story. Those places remind me of my own story. We need these recurring central metaphors in life to remind us.

If you are nomadic, all those places you traveled to, came to know and love. They are within you now, and were always hidden in Him, as your part of heaven. The world is a metaphor, and it participates in what is forever simultaneously.