Weak though I feel,
Steps forward, grasps the future.
Embrace tomorrow.
Author: Carl Setzer
Of living a life of mission
Most of my life I’ve loathed shoes. Remembering Jeremy Irons’ priest in The Mission walking barefoot into the jungle, something about his barefootedness struck me. Immense humility, a comfort with a deliberate choice of poverty, and, most powerful to me, a direct connection to the earth.
Those comprise elements I’ve tried to interweave throughout my life, with varying success. Yet they reflect my deepest values. Consider the time I spent trying to minister to the needs of Seattle’s street people, though my shoes remained on. I tried to adopt a life of focused poverty, to mixed success. The fact it was a choice, on my part, isolated me. I deeply felt myself to be a interloper, though not by any action of unwelcome. But my simple ignorance of their life, of the basics of survival within that world, eventually proved too strong a barrier.
I still deeply believe in voluntary simplicity. The world cannot support all humanity with the West’s level of affluence. Backing away from our immense consumption is critical for creating a truly just world. Though I’m not terribly humble, I’ve at least developed a flair for understatement and a non-confrontational style that sort of passes. And I still avoid shoes as much as possible, though wearing flip-flips instead of baring my feet. So, perhaps, I’ve captured these pieces. At least, I hope, their essence.
Renewal
Blossoms bursting forth
Another awakening
The sleepers awake
Mortality
Our mortality
Brutally enforced mandate
The demands of time
Cruel Motivations
Driven forwards
Grinding desire
For perfection
Fearful, knowing
Against logic
Your wretched
Miserable infliction
Upon humanity
Only cured by
Self destruction
Early Cherry Blossoms
Movement calmly slows
This winter’s gently calm sun.
New cherry blossoms
Tribute to Leonard Nimoy
Hand Crafted
Look upon roiling edges,
This vertigo inducing
Abyss of my own undoing.
Crafted by my own hands,
This yawning chasm, dug
By each act of selfish ambition.
A billion small motions.
To Wash
Deep into my heart
Wash away the deep set pain
Unburden my path
Considering Time
Strange, just sitting here,
Images demanding time
Life flittering by