CARS THAT DON’T MOVE—what is their purpose?

Cars that don’t move become symbols. Or cars that only move in dreams.

When you go to a car museum you are looking at something which was used as a vehicle, now purely as a symbol.

I’ve left cars all over the world. They become symbols. They highlight the symbolic.

I left a car in Sheffield. I left one in Antwerp. I left one or two in Austin. There is one in Mexico, if that phone call was correct.

I’ve driven them all over the place, but then they retire into pure symbol.

I wish, like Elvis I had a garage big enough for them all. Maybe my funeral in heaven, they will all be gathered so I can take a spin and consider them.

I like the metaphor of vehicles. Of course, i also give them away, as I did my Kharma Ghia in California. It’s still active, as is my 69 Volvo—somewhere.

Others literally are just sitting. They are the cars that don’t move, aside from in dreams.

In the second half of life we get to complete and interpret the symbols we discovered and started to make in the first half of life. We get to complete our symbols. And interpret them for others. We want to complete our symbols so others can see more whole statements of life.

That’s why we want to walk out the second half well. So others can hear and see the whole testimony of what God can do in a person’s life.

We start to desire less, new places and things and people, and more to tend well the one’s we have. To make fine wine.

We want to complete our symbols which we fought to find when young. Now we found them, know them, so we can better articulate and edit them into a clear expression which is more useful to others.

You see this in artist who age well. They refine the symbols they started in youth. They tend and steward the symbolic aspect of their lives to make a more whole expression.

Jesus completed His symbols. Jesus was in fact a completion of all the OT symbols. We also have this desire to complete our symbols.

When we leave the earth, we want to leave intact symbols to bless and model to others. A life completed. A testimony well told. Something with a beginning middle and end. That’s a motivation to finish well. So that His Whole story can be told through our lives.

A car un-abandoned, can become a symbol of the whole story.

Will you leave completed symbols on the earth? Now that you’ve found your symbolic lands, how to cultivate and complete them. That’s the second half of life’s mandate. The second half of life is about that symbolic efficiency. You know what you have to tend, now you can make it fruitful—finish the lines of your poem!

As you go into the 2nd half of life, you want to refine what you already have. You want to make each symbol more complete!!! Stewarding your symbols becomes a pleasure. When young, you found them, now to edit refine and share them. To tell the whole story. To collaborate in completing your testimony—His story of your life! This becomes your passion.

To complete your symbols on earth, becomes the task of the second half of life. The symbols you searched to find and conquer in the first half of life—the true images of self or yourself, can now be contoured completed filled in, outlined, shared. The story can be told! The second half of life is to tell the whole story well. To complete the symbols in Peace. No longer are you in competition, so you can complete your symbols in peace. Walk them out!

I’ve begun to be less threatened if I don’t make it to the next next…it is rather completing the symbols I have. So my house in Austin, my friends and neighborhood in San Fran, and my loft in Antwerp. These three for now need to be polished off maintained, and made spiritually sustainable-that is reproductive.

 They are on my lands, and they are part of completing the symbols I am meant to tend. This is the stage as in the book of Joshua of cultivating and making fruitful. You have already crossed the Jordan, conquered occupied and possessed the lands which are yours, now you move on to cultivation. You see the pleasant lines of your inheritance, now you can partner with God in making it fruitful. This requires wisdom, and has new satisfactions.

Tending symbols. The symbols of your life have already been birthed and grown up, now, it’s time to interpret them so they can be given to others as a whole story. That’s part of the second half of life.

Each space and project is symbolic of course, or has a symbolic dimension. You start being less concerned with what is not yours to tend also, as you get older. More working only on your own fields. Mine include many leaders and people, but also spaces themselves and cities. I like stewarding the symbolic aspect of my life.

When I leave, i would like to have more complete symbols so that it’s readable.

I’m sure architects love leaving buildings! I would like to leave traces, but very clear ones, which point to His Kingdom realm.

Jesus finished His symbols! And was a fulfillment of many beginnings of the images in the Old Testament—the bread, the wine, the temple etc…Jesus fulfilled these images, completed the symbols in Himself.

That is part of the mission of the second half of life, to complete your symbols.

In the second half of life, we get to interpret ourselves! We get to finish editing and refining what we discovered in the first half of life. The second half of life is redaction, editing towards fullness. It is enjoying completing the symbols you will leave on earth.

If Jesus had not completed His story, we would all be in trouble. He instead was able to say, “It is finished.” Let us be similar in completing our tales, completing our symbols.

We are no longer just inventing ourselves-which is really discovering who we are. Now, we know, and can refine and offer this piece of art out to others, as a sign of love and thanks to God for making us, and telling His Story through ours.

Hanging with more remarkable friends this past weekend!

 More about on from and through the gift of my friends this month. Of course, many of my closest friends, are spiritual teachers and artist, or general provocateurs, cultural interpreters, entrepreneurs,  and church or cultural spiritual shapers etc, but I really am uniquely blessed by the ones I’ve been given in my life!

 Good and kind teachers of life, generous in sharing the lessons they’ve learned. Got to resonate with my friend Dave this week, who now teaches spiritual formation at the seminary i used to attend, and his wife Karen is a painter and wonder. Both artist, models of living, and teachers. They run a creative community up in Marin; remarkable people living a life of creative service which has allowed others to flourish and bloom over many years. Not just creating art, but allowing their art making and life to cover others! I relate to that way! And have tried to do the same.

  Their house is often transformed into an art gallery, music venue or whatever they dream up. I get inspired by watching people who keep growing and transforming over many seasons and stay on the path of Life, refusing not to continue to transform. This couple has. I’ve know dave through many seasons, and the oak tree just getting taller wiser and more humble over the years. As we go, we need examples of people who go through the seasons of life well, who acquiesce into each season with grace. Dave has.

  I love moments when you have that realization that your friends and family are some of the wisest and most inspiring spiritual people you know! What a gift, my life has been. Friends pressing into further on into His Life!  Those who actually bear His Fruit, over and through time. And hence, their own.

  Nice to spend an evening with two of our best friends out here this weekend, Dave and Karen Robinson (who are not on fb)—they are fine wine. Unfortunately, i was having such a grand time, i forgot to take photos. Perhaps it was meant to be one of life’s unseen treasures! Who we are in the unseen places determines and defines the seen. The roots inform the fruits! And the roots exist in the dark unseen places. How we nurture the roots determines the fruits which are seen and sharable. Friendship is like that, as is life.

 Unseen evenings with friends make the world go around. I’ve been enjoying gleaning from friendships this month. In this overly or constantly documented world, maybe its nice to have nights where only my angels carry the camera. My angels are great film makers as well. I can’t wait to see all their footage.

Photos of God: thoughts on the art of living:

Thinking about how to make each day a work of art- excellent regardless of medium. Each day, a piece of art! Some parts recorded others not. I grew up in a neighborhood of musicians. Mitch Easter, the fellow who first recorded REM lived up the street. We had several well known writers. And several other bands and film people all around. My mother was also an artist, so she highlighted creative living (we had candle-lit breakfast growing up!)

 There was this challenge to make good art, and live as art-to live each day as if it were a collaboration with God. That’s still my philosophy! Because I believe life is a collaboration with God, and we enjoy it more when we yield to that improvisation!

 I still think there is something to it. Not the perfectionism part, but that living well requires us to look at each day as art-to meet it in hopeful expectation of the birth of a new poem- and ourselves as the medium through and with God gets to make His art. We both get to contribute!

 Then, we can step back and consider the overall body of work. But today’s task is to stay yielded to “the day of Lord” which we are meant to rejoice in, find and live in. Today is the day which The Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it. Of course, we are responsible for finding “that day”. And we are daily. Get our false selves out of the way, and be usefully oriented, so we can make good art.

  This is part of The Lord’s prayer: “Give us this day, our daily bread.”

 Living as art means each day is another chance to collaborate. It ushers in meaning, because we are not in a solo piece (isolated from God and the universe), but rather creative contributors to it, in an orchestra playing our part with the grand conductor, who lowers Himself to collaborate with us!

 Some people think of art as “over there”-an esoteric activity of the few-a luxury. That has never made sense to me. I tend to think of it as life itself, a part of what we are; part of what life is ontologically (Reality includes creativity! It’s part of how we know what is Real In some ways, art is a way of knowing.), and a space which brings life to other parts. We are poems, as the good book puts it. So we create. Life itself is a creative collaborative process.

 Artist highlight it, spot light it, make it overt, but it’s really part of what life is for us all. And part of our relationship daily with God. Once our creativity is integrated, we start to see life itself as our art form or medium. And each day as a dance.

 As I’ve gotten older I’ve come to see creativity itself as part of what we all are. And can bring to the table of each day. It energizes the rest of life, and offers it context and interpretation.

 It allows the symbolic strata of meaning to be present in normal mundane activities like taking out the trash. That’s its gift to us, as photos of God!

 Creativity is not meant to be an idol, just as reason is not. But both once baptized into our relationship to God become places of meeting, places of collaboration, places to learn how to live the art of life.

i heard her in the dark forest last night beyond our house

gently crushing bark, branches and dry leaves-walking lightly

with the weightlessness of gliding hooves-how tenderness walks this earth

has to be recalled in our days.

 Then, this morning, the kestrel crossed over, glided above us in its own circling silence-its sibilant precision,

scanning the garden’s floor beneath the city from such distance and accurately scoped binoculared vision, i thought it was a hawk, then realized it was a friend, akin to falcon.

Regardless it stalked and saw the garden within the city-the one they talk about in Revelation. I’m sure of it.

There was also a half eaten apple from some unseen orchard on our fence

i’m guessing, a raccoon, as it was placed well, cleverly, even thoughtfully, and casually left behind. The way those wearing masks, slink away but not without

a perfect gesture of their recent presence.

So much happens without us looking. so many things just know

how to be themselves. why not us? maybe we do

by gazing well. maybe we tend the earth by listening in love,

among other things, and walking lightly on land

with our eyes open, watching God

through the geometry of animal nuances.

Meeting God through the earth!  Through not as the earth. “He leaves traces of Himself in everything He made-little amplifications of particular aspects of His Being, so we can meet Him there in the thanks of beholding His many nuances.”

It’s easy to meet God through creation! We can meet God through any activity, but it seems easiest through the creatures.

Today’s activities… There are 40 species of birds in this neighborhood, including the kestrel-a type of falcon, which I’ve gotten to see three times on this trip. Lots of types of hummingbirds and all sorts of creatures including a fox and several coyotes who are making a comeback in San Fran. Anyways, these binoculars have come in handy this week, especially with the tiny birds. The fellow who owns this house has a vineyard, so I’ve been trying to learn about the grape varietals he uses, so i can be useful in conversations.

 And studying NT Wright’s take on the book of Revelation (great commentary-historically grounded but an understanding of symbols and language-he has an enlightened imagination, as i like to call it).

Last night we heard deer and coyotes in the forest behind the house. The deer in particular had this weightless way of being on earth which struck me. Had to write a poem.

i heard her in the dark forest last night

gently crushing bark, branches and dry leaves

with the weightlessness of gliding hooves-how tenderness walks this earth

has to be recalled in our days.

 Then, this morning, the kestrel crossed over, glided above us in its own circling silence-its sibilant precision,

scanning the garden’s floor beneath the city from such distance and accurately scoped vision, i thought it was a hawk, then realized it was a friend akin to falcon.

Regardless it stalked and saw the garden within the city-the one they talk about in Revelation. I’m sure of it.

There was also a half eaten apple from some unseen orchard on our fence

i’m guessing, a raccoon, as it was placed well, cleverly, even thoughtfully, and casually left behind. The way those wearing masks, slink away but not without

a perfect gesture of their recent presence.

So much happens without us looking. so many things just know

how to be themselves. why not us? maybe we do

by gazing well. maybe we tend the earth by listening,

among other things.

Thankful for true friends today!

 My friends have really been blessings me this week. People are gifts from God; when we receive them well, we are rich. I’ve had several friends die this year, but they are still my friends. Friendship is eternal, for it is a way of and in God. And it makes me even more thankful for the ones still on earth.

 I’ve always felt Jesus as a friend, who shares His friends with me. He’s less a religion to me, and more a friendship which keeps growing. So I’m rich in friendship. That’s a good area to be wealthy in!

I’m a words person, so always moved when people share theirs from their heart or inner selves.

My friends, just being themselves help more than can be named. Or as one friend wrote this week: “Thanks be to God for the unspeakable gifts.” People really are unspeakable gifts to me. When we share ourselves, we are vehicles or channels of blessing to one another…

My favorite monk quote today: “We are becoming the highlights of His Kingdom film that He projects on the enormous screen of the universe for His Own viewing pleasure. We get to be actors in His own cinema.” That quote made me happy. It’s a different, more nuanced way of calling us sons and daughters, brothers and sisters (family metaphor).

  More like Paul’s idea that we are His best poetry (masterpieces) worth pronouncing (Ephesians 2:10), and which He is capable of pronouncing through The Son. That one, is more like life as a grand poetry reading by God, which I’ve always related to. But cinema is another helpful and current metaphor! Nice.

   We are songs waiting to be sung, notes waiting to be played, poetry waiting to be read, or a film waiting to be projected uninterruptedly forever, as we yield into and to the Great Film Director! Good meditation today. Apropos in a city of great visual intelligence anyway. Not unlike Paris. Maybe this monk could translate best the Kingdom categories to this type of person or city. I always liked how St Paul switched to poetry or philosophy when needed to communicate the message-why not film?! Just a flickering thought today!

Sea me.

Found these notes and photos in my journal from my last birthday out here at Point Reyes, California. I think i was feeling poetic that day, being with my wife and sea. The ocean has a way of Fathering us into ourselves…

  The cool blue virulent enlivening sea breeze of the pacific-father calling of sea-heal and sky, recalling it today into my skin, bones, the why of knowing (St John’s blessings for the older, of knowing; when i was here in youth i was overcoming, only overflowing, but now i rest in wave’s strength/length, peace-You got me in Your Wavelength, the trust of becoming!)- the stones of being, wind washed and sea brushed with time, awakened in stillness-still me as remarkably crisply focused and sharp expresser, tumbler, wave of life, yet… fluid-water surge’s might- a center in the midst of mist-something offering shape, contour-a boundary of being given to those who forgot theirs.

         Teach me to separate the waters with You.

  Stillness (continue to), still me, and help me see and be, my part—I in Thee (Buber’s song), a sunset sea colored pebble skipped across a grand scaled sea surface-or, I maybe, some sort of seamless showcase, the sheer sheen of disco ball reflected in a window, or a simple pebble a boy throws when he’s learning to pitch an impact across the seamless surface of a pond-to make ripples for others to see by, and recall where the fish are, or trace them there/here-or, those bright neon yellow lines on the runway to tell time by, so others know how to land. Make me something like that yellow slabbed runway—someplace where You may land.

  Me, a cascaded tilted lamp like light of some odd flickering sort, gently scattered, or half sinking into glistens, across waters, or wetness itself; a wet series of circles, or rivulets, a temporary importation of life aimed or at least slanted, towards something more…a fluid sign, a wooden post made of water, i suppose; or, a continuous ripplingly direct expression, an overflow of Your Life in me; you wear my personality like a sparkling glove and direct the traffic of the sea through me… a type of yielded might which others might not notice, but which holds firm as micah reflects flecks at the instant of sunset, (that’s its one job)…let me be that type of glistening-a  singularly focused shimmer, one fleck focused on its Source, a refraction staring directly into The Light… until, i’m truly useful in directly reflecting You, until I’m more, and more than me. Until then, let’s be friends. Let’s share a practical light.

 I think of you often through the sea Father. Thanks for letting me also see me. Or starlight on water, calling forth other constellations from the California sea. Or whatever or wherever we are together. That’s what I always wanted to be.

The cool virulent enlivening sea breeze of the pacific, recalling it today into my skin, bones, knowing- the stones of being-wind washed and sea brushed, awakened in stillness-still, remarkably crisp focused and sharp, but fluid, a center in the midst of mist-something offering shape, contour-a boundary of being. Stillness (continue to), still me, and help me see and be, my part—I in Thee (Buber’s song), a sunset sea colored pebble skipped across a grand scaled sea surface-or, I maybe, some sort of showcase, the sheer sheen of disco ball reflected in a window, or a simple pebble a boy throws when he’s learning to pitch an impact across the seamless surface of a pond-to make ripples, for others to see by, and recall where the fish are-or, those bright neon yellow lines on the runway to tell time by, so others know how to land. Or, a cascaded tilted lamplight ( or a tilted airplane if needed) of some odd sort, gently scattered, or half sinking, across and into waters; a wet series of circles, or rivulets, aimed towards something more…a fluid sign, i suppose; or, a continuous ripplingly direct expression or channel of Your Life in me; a type of might which others might not notice, but which holds firm as micah reflects flecks at the instant of sunset, (that’s its one job)…let me be that type of glistening-a  singularly focused shimmer, a refraction… until, i’m truly useful in directly reflecting You. Until then, let’s be friends.