A Big Fish Dream!
I have intense dreams all the time, but I liked this fishy one last night! It’s kept me swimming today…
Dreamed of a huge white fish last night: a big fish, once caught, you have to figure out how to cover it, and what you both need next….
Had a dream last night, i caught a huge white fish-twice the length of my arm. I was on a large boat on the upper deck, in high seas, deep sea fishing (perhaps the Pacific, or the African-ancient-coast, i wasn’t sure; seas of course, are also nations, and I have been floating between a few recently!); once i landed the fish, and de-hooked it, which took about an hour, i took it to a lower deck to take a look. All white, blue eyes, with flecks of yellow on its fins. Brilliant, radiant, pure, simply beautiful. I felt like it was an elder fish, or adult fish, had known years, but had several seasons left of life as well. Wanted to house it properly.
I had lots of younger colorful fish (younger ones, i’ve helped house and flourish along the way) in proper tanks around the room, they were fine, shiny, growing, resplendent in their own identities, but this one would need something special.
I had no aquarium big enough, or specialized enough for it, but it was too gorgeous to either throw back or let die. In the room, i had other fish aquariums of various sizes, on this lower protected deck, several with cool lighting and their own coral atmospheres (sort of like an art fish studio—really cool looking) which suited several other fish i had been helping grow.
They were happy, but this fish i had to temporarily put into a cooler or small bucket, until i could figure out where it belonged. Or how to build a big enough environment for it, until releasing it, or whatever it needed next.
One of the smaller fish, was a rainbow colored angel fish. It was happy, and i was happy with it’s growth, but in the dream, i needed to figure out how to make a container for this enormous pure white fish (i thought of calling my friend who makes huge aquariums, but i had no phone or computer at high seas!), I’d just caught—it was around 2 feet long, and i had never built a container for a fish this large or glorious.
There were some cats in the room interested in my big fish, so I wanted to find a cover big enough for the container i put it in. I looked for some ply-board, or wood or something which would cover it, until i could figure out the best container for it’s growth. I think i ended up using a stone, but i wanted it to breath a bit. (My design or choreographic perfectionism, i’m sure).
Some of the guys on the upper deck were killing their fish or making trophies, out of them. That felt silly, or even dangerous, though i respected them for fishing. I felt like mine needed to live and had more seasons of life to become. Plus, it really was just so beautiful.
For some reason, i woke up hopeful and humble. Good fishing dream. These other younger fishermen and women on the upper deck also caught huge fish-one fellow had caught an enormous mackerel all black, but couldn’t get it onto the deck. This happened as i was sorting a larger tank for the one i caught. I thought about helping him, but then kept looking at this amazing white fish i just caught, and wanted to protect it’s glory.
The younger ones up top, were extremely enthusiastic to reel their fish in, and I knew how to teach them, but some lost their fish because of over zealousness—the patience required to reel in a big fish can’t be underrated.
But for me, it was about how to sustain this all white adult fish life into it’s next season on the lower deck. Fish are cool! But fish dreams, even cooler. I’ll keep fishing around for the interpretation of this dream. But I think i need to learn to build bigger aquariums in the meantime! Cool dream. I love creaturely dreams. Still swimming with this one.
Reminded me to stay in my season, but also begged the question, of what to do with an enormous pure white fish. I love how dreams ask you life questions! One—how could I house an elder saintly one into their later seasons of life. But there were many other questions intimated as well.
Great dream! I’m always having interesting dreams, but i like fishy ones! Has to do with mysteries, and wonder! This one had a cool inter-generational aspect, which many of my dreams have. When to serve the younger, and when to take care of the elders, and be in your own growth process, serving the mysteries you are served seasonally!
I love how dreams consider layers of spiritual growth simultaneously, and have Mercy on all involved! Fun fish dream regardless. I love how dreams teach—leading us into needed transformational questions in our lives! Plus, that movie “Big Fish” is still one of my favorites!

Our local neighborhood beer-ista (as he calls himself) is great!
Yesterday, he taught me the entire monastic history of each ale they carry.
It was like getting to learn oral church history from someone who is a bit cynical about whether the church mastered spirituality at the level they did beer and cheese. Good critique, i thought.
Always funny, and fun talking to this fellow. I learn so much from those who serve well, and know the stories of what they are serving. Narrative still matters with people, not just products.
I’m still a believer that our personal stories fit into longer and larger ones! That stories still matter, and are not indeterminate, or just used to dominate (but that discussion’s for another day). Identity is ensconced in a meaningful tale, as my mentor put it!
Plus, beer, cheese and wine, not to mention architecture, make church history less boring, if you taste it, and see what worked and didn’t!
I myself was just drinking tea, as i have a slight cold, but i imbibed his message! Thanks friend. He could tell i like to learn what others know. And love learning church history through food and drink! Communion that is.

Praise throws out shame!

In the very area of shame, He plants praise! Not only is He not ashamed to call us kin, or brother and sister! But also, in the very area where we felt the most shame, He plants and cultivates praise. Of course, praise is what throws off depression as well, as David taught us!
Nice truth from and through Zephaniah the priest prophet today!
In the very area of shame, God plants praise! Nice little gleaning from studies today! The cracks really can become where light breaks in the most! Our darkest spots become the places of His most overt Light!

A bird across the hall talks in chirps cheerfully to morning alone…
a piano playing, through another door wants out;
someone unseen stitching seams in Silence in a studio down below is
perhaps an angel making our forever clothes-at least i hope in her atelier
she is clothing us as the birds at least…
For, God is always preparing our clothes in winter…as we must know by now!
(and, someone has been stitching fabric here for hundreds of years-
today is just a present echo of That Silence).
The gold fish below, move slowly, almost lurchingly, in winter ponds beneath
the bare fig tree, and a sheen layer of Winter’s ice. The gulls and church bells cascading together overhead, as
the little black headed finches chirp and shrill,
searching for fresh sprigs towards Spring. Someone surely is painting- for the sound of concentration is nearby too. The application of color
is clearly in the air!
And even the workers drilling new holes, and smoothing some cement surface, are in their own way, constructing new foundations for us,
a new cool acoustic for us to walk upon, and discover ground again.
Good to be with
so many friends simultaneously present today, regardless.
Every single sound in this endless building, this
enormous room we live in together,
is allowed in by Love today
every single silent or singing ringing stitch of it
is somehow a gift formed for me today
as I listen in Love from above.

Perhaps we are all clumsy souls! I know, I am. But, here’s to the potential, that in our klutziness, our stumbling out loud in Love, we attain and offer Love to one another, beyond our foolishness, partialness of sight, and towards one another’s wholeness—that’s my toast towards you today friends.

That despite ourselves and location on our journeys, we may bless one another as we tumble. Towards Love, we go, and tumble, or stumble into! Love will make us whole in the end, despite us, as long as we lean in that direction! Grace catches those who fall out loud into Love. It’s a falling forwards act…us.

We are like clowns, who must learn to fall well, for us all. Let’s fall well friends! So, here’s my toast to tumbling…perhaps we should be drinking from a tumbler for this one!

Living from Rest:

Just sitting with life today, what’s that like, you say?
I see so few, who can just be, including me most of the time.
It’s not just busyness, it’s internal rustling, which keep us from just being-something that won’t just let us appreciate the art of life daily. It’s a interruptive frequency which only active gratitude can overcome hourly.
Just to be thankful for a room, or lighting, a child’s face, a person’s tone in a certain conversation, a little girl’s wrist in sunlight, or a bird flying overhead in Silence.
Just to be with the day as it occurs is a type of practicing Sabbath, and is an action of severe gratitude- a huge potent act of receptive kindness.
Thanks Lord, for allowing me to be today. We are always trying too hard down here, and rarely living out of or from rest of being. Learning to live from rest, may be the most important and underrated daily practice for our times. At least, that was my sense, as i returned home to myself today—just thanks for life!

The useful loneliness of chairs…
Sitting with chairs
stacked outside my favorite cafe
i watch them all evening, to see how they hold memory
then i get up, walk on. Today, i gave nothing back to them but noticing them
and these words. The way chairs wait for us each day…
Tomorrow i may chat with friends on them
beneath those trees which lean into the cathedral,
and I will be more useful, but today
they are already being themselves,
waiting to serve tomorrow’s scene.

What are you and your city’s central stories you tell yourselves to remember who you are? We all tell ourselves stories to remember ourselves by! Even cities and nations do. It matters which stories we tell ourselves.

Finding a person or places central stories or symbolic tales, has become more than a hobby to me—more a way of seeing, over the years!

I try to ask a city it’s central stories to know it. When I return often to the person or place, I start to sense their repeated symbols, and where they are at in healing them. Fun way to travel about!

Antwerp, for instance, where I stay has a David Goliath like story about underdogs overcoming, and cutting off the hand of the abuser. So there are many hand symbols throughout the city.

Tells lots about how she sees herself. And why she still welcomes the weak!
Her hand is extended from her heart. But also an oppressor was thrown off and that became a healing place.

We can see where she was wounded in the story as well. Exactly where her gift of friendliness and extension of hand is. And what she had to do to heal it. Defeat the giants of oppression and abuse, historically and daily, I’m sure.

So much in city’s stories, which you can often read through architecture or central landmarks or statues!!! And the personal stories we repeat to ourselves and others to remember who we are. Our identity motifs. Again symbols hold expressions of core identity.

What again are you and your city’s stories you repeat to carry identity?

The Greeks repeated stories of origin, adventure, conquest-all sorts of Odysseus as they equated travel with wisdom. Etc. each culture has its central stories. In fact, it is said that Alexander slept with both the Iliad and the Odyssey and a dagger under his pillow. What books are beneath your pillow, they may guide your journey, for better or worse!

I often sometimes also ask, what stories are your historical or foundational ones, and how are those interpreted currently. How are your symbols in dialogue across time. It’s another way of reading the overarching narrative of a person or place.

The Jews repeat the Passover story each year to remember themselves.

We all have haggadah’s. But each reflect unique aspects of identity? So, what are your central stories, and where are they at in editing, or healing process of you and your city’s identity. Fun to work from our stories into our cores!

It’s always about to rain in belgium
In Texas, everything leans towards Summer instead.
Yet, in both, church bells are just about to always ring…
birds and church bells are about to converse with everything..
It’s how I keep time in both places. I’ve given up
other types of time. They take too long.