Sitting here in quarantine after participating in a men's breakfast six days ago. About one hundred guys, all unmasked. In the not too distant past I would have rested on my vaccinations and booster to protect me. But this time ol' Omicron has shown himself no respecter of mRNA and masks and has alluded many peoples best efforts to avoid infection. On the way home from this event I had an unsettled feeling of having been naive. I had let myself be lulled into business as usual, when in fact 'usual' had quietly left the building.
So masking at home with Sandi, sleeping apart, and distancing have been enacted. Of course many of today's social judges would scoff at such behavior. But it's my house, my silo of truth and my desire to protect my compromised wife that inform my decision towards caution. Alas, I join so many others in voicing how sick I am about being pandemic-ed to death. Yes, enough already! Yet Mr. Covid plays in his sandbox by his rules, not mine, and being humbled by an invisible viral foe is simply the way things are for now.
(It is feeling like this post is going to have a "journal entry" vibe. Ok, duly noted. Carry on.)
Getting a CT arthrogram scan of my forefoot this coming week. Still trying to get my walking back. Germany trip was a departure from my two month walking hiatus. I am grateful that the many miles I did in the Rodenbach area were tolerated better than expected. But there is no denying that I still took a hit. New podiatrist and a diagnostic plan to get to the bottom of things feels right. Whether or not surgery seems called for is yet to be seen.
On an entirely different note, a deeper level of union with Christ continues to pull me, to motivate me and to inhabit my morning rendezvous with the Trinity. Today while swimming I was struck by the dissonance between self-actualization -vs- the surrender of maintaining myself as an autonomous self. To me, the very ludicrousness of spending over seven decades fully pursuing the very things that now need to be relinquished in order to realize my branch fully merging with Him as vine is... breathtaking! Maslow my good friend, your hierarchy of needs, while perhaps pertinent in a worldly sense, has little to say about the spiritual realm in general and union with Christ in particular. And then, to top it off, the very subject matter of this paragraph turns out to be ineffable and thus notoriously elusive and not able to be adequately captured with mere words. So there is that.....
An adventure is on the horizon. An opportunity to be a part of an Intensive on Catalina Island in late March. To facilitate and participate in the intimate stories of other men who are seeking the 'more' they believe is out there to be had. I have had just enough experience with such missions to be both humbled, expectant and desirous to enter into the four-day event with hands not gripping, a heart fully trusting and all expectations checked at the door. Father, give me your eyes, your ears and your love as the only attributes deployed at this event.
Our trip to Germany now ended over three weeks ago. It has been interesting to look back with some perspective and to see the number of ways Father used it in my life. I have heard myself describe my time as a mixed bag of "highs" and "lows" and I can now see how it was definitely a spiritual exercise navigating the varied terrain with the backdrop of being four thousand miles away from the "usual". A significant physical distancing from the normal ruts of life certainly seemed to encourage some fresh insights. I had three weeks to watch myself walk through so many "foreign' things, complete with my response and reactions. Although I won't be processing in this venue, it would be worthwhile to journal at least the bullet points of what were my "take-a ways" (My how I dislike that overused term, but it works.).
So, at large, 2022 seems off to a rocky start. The levels of unrest in this country and around the world are off the chart. The pandemic issues have had profound impacts at both a global level as well as in individual families. Unlike bygone times, we now spend an inordinate amount of time trying to decipher actual truth from the gobbledygook that merely appears as truth. It feels like over the last few years the social fabric of our lands have grown shockingly fractionated. It's as if there are multiple silos of 'truth'. Each comes complete with various, sharp distinctions, a full assortment of 'data' that can be used either to support the particular 'truths' of one's silo or to bash and judge the other silos. Pick your version of the 'truth', find others that hold to the same silo and call them your community. Circle your wagons against the 'lies' of the other silos and sit back and scoff away at all the ridiculousness going on 'out there'. It seems to be the way of life these days and it feels like death, not life. So Lord, I hear my whining here....show me how to resist participating in these social games. Outfit me to be a peacemaker amidst the chaos.
The boredom of my quarantining gave me an appetite to write. Now having done so, without being particularly 'pregnant' with any specific topic, I must self-disclose that this has not brought the satisfaction that normally is there when a particular itch is well-scratched. It is what it is mate. Heh Santiago, let's just lay it out under the hot noonday sun of the desert and let it shake and quiver in all its banality and triteness. Selah!
