Uphill idealist

"The lakes hidden among the hills are saints, and the sea too is a saint who praises God without interruption in her majestic dance. The great, gashed, half-naked mountain is another of God's saints. . .  For me to be a saint means to be myself. Therefore the problem of sanctity and salvation is in fact the problem of finding out who I am and of discovering my true self. Trees and animals have no problem. God makes them what they are without consulting them, and they are perfectly satisfied. With us it is different. God leaves us free to be whatever we like. We can be ourselves or not, as we please. We are at liberty to be real, or to be unreal. We may be true or false, the choice is ours." —Thomas Merton,  New Seeds of Contemplation "We can be ourselves, or not." A tree can only be itself. As for me, I can try to hide - discard - and  diminish my true self. I can desire myself to be smarter, more organized, and way more affluent ( in whatever kind of curre

There are days that feel out of sync. They jumble, rustle, and rattle your center until all gravity is gone. The ravens of change caw and cause you to shudder as you walk along the path ahead. Are you really blazing a trail or just settling for a scenic route to avoid the potholes. But each day, I'm told, is brand new. And the restlessness can be a sign that something exciting and purposeful is growing here. That flock of black birds could be calling me to pay some mind to the dew on the grass and the harvest in the fields that surround me. Each step could be backwards, but there is movement. There is progress. Obstacles are being faced and filled in. Rome wasn't built in a day, and roots don't grow deep overnight. Renewal sometimes needs to be wrestled with, wandered around and waited for - until one day something just fits. There are days that feel out of sync - but this day something settled in with hope and will dig deep. The ravens told me so. M