I've Got Nothing New

Some oldies but goodies . . . .


I don't know what's best for me most of the time.  The things that I'm sure I HAVE to have frequently blow up in my face when I get them.  This is why I don't ask for specific things any more, unless I really, really HAVE TO HAVE them.  Then I go for it when I pray, unspooling hours and hours of instructions.  If I'm really motivated god does exactly what I want god to do.  And the flip side of the coin is that when the events transpire that I believe are a TOTAL DISASTER they often turn out to be wonderful blessings in disguise.


I cringe a little when I hear phrases like "Pain is the touchstone to all spiritual growth."  There's a little too much pop psychology there for my comfort and I'm not sure what a touchstone is, exactly, but I can work around my reservations because it's so frequently true.  I grow when I'm challenged.  I don't do the hard work unless I'm uncomfortable.


Touchstone:  Any test or criterion for determining genuineness or value; a type of black stone formerly used to test the purity of gold or silver by the streak left on it when it was rubbed with the metal.


I had a long talk with Herr Luber yesterday about the stress of Change and The Unknown.  Stress can be very stressful.  But enduring the stress, developing the patience and quiet and presence to shoulder on through almost always leaves me in a better place.  Now, I'm not suggesting that stress is my favorite thing in the world, but I don't run from it like it's the plague any more, either.  I come out in a better place, tougher and meaner and more resilient.  


My getting fired is an apt example.  When people express their sympathy or outrage I'm all: "Eh.  I've been fired before.  I'm a drunk.  I know how to get fired and live to fight another day."  I got the best job I ever had after getting fired.  The dross was burned off and I was in a better place.


I flash back to my first trip to a jungle in Ecuador.  It involved a plane landing at a god-forsaken air strip hacked out of the brush; a 3 hour, bone-rattling ride in an open-air jeep over what passed for a semblance of a road, interrupted once by a long interrogation with teen-aged soldiers carrying Uzis; and concluding with a 2 hour motorized canoe trip up a winding tributary of the Amazon, vines and other serrated vegetation lashing my face the whole time.  


Ending up being one of my best vacation experiences.  Not easy -- memorable