Wordless Wednesday: Night at the Movies!

Self Love

The student said to the master, “How do you love yourself? Today I feel so horrible, alone and afraid.”

“It will pass,” the teacher replied.

A week later, the student came back to his teacher. “I feel so good! I feel good about myself and life. It’s wonderful!”

“It will pass,” the teacher replied.

The road to loving yourself is full of twists and turns, ups and downs. But where do you start? And what is my advice for jump-starting the journey of self love?

Here’s what I’d recommend:

1. Forgive yourself. Carrying around the weight of your missteps is stunting your growth. Remind yourself that it is through your mistakes that you learn and grow.
2. Know that your self worth is intrinsic. Avoid evaluating yourself based on how many other people love, desire or want you. Avoid evaluating your self worth based on anything outside of yourself, such as your body, your status, your car or your bank account. Avoid evaluating yourself based on anything that is transient and changing, including situations and circumstances.
3. Know that you are worthy. You are exactly what you are intended to be. The sum of the whole is in each of the parts. You are one such part, and no one is any more deserving (or any less deserving) of its abundance than you.
4. Cultivate unconditional love. Don’t restrict your love - and don’t select pieces of yourself to love. You are not a cafeteria. You don’t get to pick and choose what you want. You are the complete deal and the whole package. You may wish to change parts of yourself, but you have to love it all now - as every aspect of you is here to serve your purpose.
5. Create sacred alone time. Set aside an amount of time that seems appropriate and cultivate your relationship with yourself. Do something that you want to do, and do not invite a friend. Do it alone, and love it. Cherish the experience. Go to a restaurant that you love. Walk in the park. Go see a movie. Study. Meditate.

As you learn to love yourself more and more - and we all have room to grow - a funny thing starts to happen. You’ll have more love in your heart, and thus, more love to share with the people around you. Your relationships will reflect that love and your entire community will take notice. Including you.

Poetry Moment

I thought I would take a moment today to share one of my favorite poems with you. Feel free to share one of yours with me!

Robert Service (1874-1958)

The Cremation of Sam McGee

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way that "he'd sooner live in hell."

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see;
It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, "I'll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request."

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
"It's the cursèd cold, and it's got right hold, till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet 'tain't being dead — it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains."

A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: "You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it's up to you, to cremate those last remains."

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows — Oh God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the "Alice May."
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry, "is my cre-ma-tor-eum."

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared — such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside.
I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; ... then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and said: "Please close that door.
It's fine in here, but I greatly fear, you'll let in the cold and storm —
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Expectations in Worship

“Nothing endures but change,” – Heraclitus (540 BC)

The new taste of Coke, changing work schedules, evolving friendships, complex relationships, facebook formats, and the revert back to small neck ties knots are just a few examples of changes that I have adapted to. I can handle change.

The best way to get a church all riled up is to change something. I have worked for and attended enough churches to know that doing something as practical as adding a wheelchair ramp or as simple as changing the way the bulletins are folded is enough to cause major problems within the congregation. But…when you start to change the worship service…hold on…it could get rough.

I have opinions. I have beliefs. I have preferences. I do not expect others to have the same opinions, beliefs, and preferences as I do. Yet…in this time of change I am expected to conform to the beliefs of others. Why? Because I’m young? Because I am a “musician?” Because I am a Christian? In the past few weeks I have heard things like, “God wants us to worship like this,” and “Every new tradition started as a radical change.” Worship, in my opinion, is an expression of a very personal relationship with God. I really don’t care how you worship. Just don’t tell me what type of song God expects me to sing.

Youth is not a good enough reason to accept this change. Being a Christian does not mean I am required to like it. But most importantly, I would like to mention that it is not the musician in me that is not in agreement. The musician in me hasn’t been to church in a long time.

I haven’t really said what I’ve wanted to say. Maybe I don’t really know what it is that I am trying to say. I guess it all comes down to this:

I am allowed to not like this change, and that is no reflection on the individuals involved with the change.

Wordless Wednesday: Killer Cacti

Theres a Snake in My Boot!

Rattlesnakes are really easy to spot…at the visitor’s center…behind the glass.

I always think that I am going to go out into nature and find whatever it is that is out there to be found. The more dangerous the better! In Florida, I was always gator hunting. In Virginia, I was always looking for a bear just over the rise in the trail. And in the Arizona desert this weekend I was looking for rattlesnakes. But the truth is that gators scared the heck out of me, my fear of bears caused me to wear bells on my shoes, and rattlesnakes…well they put the fear of God in me.

I didn’t have much free time this weekend in Phoenix, but I decided that I would thrust myself into the desert landscape and get the most out of what time I did have. I found a park operated by Maricopa County that I thought would be what I was looking for. It certainly was! The ranger told me about one hiking trail in particular that was very popular. I drove to the trailhead and got ready to enter nature. I wasn’t very prepared to hike through the desert. I was wearing a pretty thick tee shirt, and some heavy shorts. Oh…and my designer sandals.

It was a 2.3 mils round trip hike. The path was wide and well marked. I was in awe of the 15 foot tall cacti that dotted the landscape. Not far down the trail was a message board with a big bright yellow warning sign. Mountain lions had been spotted in the area recently and it warned that they were not afraid to approach the trail. Great. And I thought I only needed to worry about a snake bite. I had my cell phone with me and my passport in my pocket. I left my wallet and driver’s license in my car. That way they would know whose car was in the parking lot after the mountain lion dragged my body back to its lair.

I decided to keep going. I was determined to experience the desert. I walked on and the path started to be not so well marked. As the path narrowed and the rocks and plants got closer I started to become incredibly nervous about finding a rattlesnake. My eyes were glued to the ground. I stopped. I looked around. There were no sounds, and the parking lot had disappeared behind some bends in the trail. I was completely alone…in the desert.

It happened with the next step I took. That sound! Unmistakable! My heart was beating out of my chest and for a split second I was frozen. But it didn’t take long to realize that I had only scared a small group of birds from underneath a Joshua tree. Once my heart returned to normal, and I was able to breath again I continued walking. The trail was getting smaller and sandier. In fact, sand was starting to get flipped up into my sandal. As I walked I shook my sandal trying to get the sand out. That is when I realized that the sound of shaking desert sand out of one’s sandal is very similar to the sound of a rattlesnake! I scared the heck out of myself!

As I continued I was becoming less paranoid about watching the ground and I started to enjoy the beauty around me. It was stunning. And for being 115 degrees, it was pretty comfortable too. Then I had to laugh at myself…I realized that I was singing the theme song to “Hey Dude.” Out loud. Alone. In the desert.

The hike was incredible. I could have gone on some other trails in the park to continue my quest for a rattlesnake, but I didn’t. Instead I decided to drive to a nearby zoo where I could find desert animals while eating dippin dots.

Oh! This is hysterical! While I was at the zoo I walked past one of those big colorful parrots. You know, the kind that talk. Now, I am not a fan of birds but I decided to stand in the shade and admire this one. The parrots looked at me and said… Okay, are you ready for this? The dang parrot looked at me and said, “QUACK!” That pretty much made my day.

Senior Sessions

Devan

Devan

Devan

Devan

Devan

Will

Will

Will

Will