On The Edge: Living, Falling, Remaining.

There is an edge to life. When it comes to preserving the inner soul there seems to be a life and death aspect to much of life. Maybe this is just how life is or, has to be so that we don’t fall asleep and die in numbness.We have to be aware of these edges, approach them, and then make decisive choices.

Often, in work, family and our communities, to merely go along with others when in our heart we know we cannot, is to experience a death of sorts. It is a double edged sword. If we say nothing we are going to have to ‘live’ with our self, (and the dead abandoned aspects of our self), and the compromises we had to make internally.  But if we say something we may find our self alone and maybe even in need of a new job.

Joseph Campbell was fond of quoting a Hindu text, “A dangerous path is this, like a razors edge”, and describes how Lancelot while trying to rescue Guinevere had to cross over a river crawling with bare hands and feet on a swords edge. A dangerous path indeed. The true spiritual life journey has an edge to it. It is difficult to get too comfortable while walking on that edge.

I guess the trick is to know when to walk that edge and be willing to take your chances. I know when fly fishing I have to play the edge. But, life is more than fishing. More is at stake. A dangerous path is this, a razors edge.

I think the place I really feel this razors edge is when I try to draw near to God and ask, “God, where are you”?  It feels a bit uneasy for me to acknowledge the all too common experience of the absence of God and yet to remain in this vulnerable place. A dangerous place indeed.

 I may even be brought to the place where I dare to ask, “My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me”?  And yet still find myself believing, by faith, that he has not forsaken me. And again, to just remain, waiting, even when nothing changes. 

I also then wonder what it might mean to not feel the loneliness and sharpness of this edge and to never ask the question.

Other Voices

There are other voices. There may be one true voice inside of us that keeps calling to us yet, there are other voices outside of us competing for our attention.

Many voices call to us.  Many voices pull at us. I wonder how much we listen to those other voices.

Many of these voices are loud. Or, if not loud then, at least convincing and powerful enough to take us off our true path. They “tug at our ankles”, as Mary Oliver wrote, preventing us from continuing on our journey or sometimes, even starting.  

Voices, voices, voices, “Keep up with the Joneses”,  “You’re worth it”.  “You know what you want and you won’t settle for anything else”. “You’re special”. “You can have it all and you can have it now”,  “You deserve a break today”,   “You deserve to be happy”,  “If it makes you feel good, do it”. “You are entitled”, “The whole world belongs to you”.  

There is voice to buy things.  As Wendell Berry says in one of his poems, “When they want you to buy something they will call you”.  And, how often “they” call to us.  We can  buy so quickly that we don’t even stop to think what we are buying and if we even really want what we are buying. More importantly, we rarely question who is calling us to buy. Who is the “they”?

Until we ask the question of, “Who is the one that calls”? we might continue to just go along with those voices. The voices themselves will get inside our heads and we will become convinced that they are a part of us.  The voices will no longer have to shout. They will just whisper and we will conclude, “This is just me. This is what I want; this is my life”.

But, then perhaps there can be no true calling or at least one we might be able to hear.  

In order to have a chance of getting out of this madness perhaps we need another option. We have to utter a strong no to the main stream cultures voices.  If we hear even the faintest whisper of that one true voice that we forgot (and that I so often forget), but still recognize, we can begin again, and again on a new journey as we leave those other voices behind. As, Mary Oliver says,

 “But Little by little, as you left their voices behind, and the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own and that kept you company as you strove deeper and deeper into the world.”

Fly Fishing And Skiing in One's Back Yard: Finding You're Identity And Knowing Where You Live.

There are some wonderful places in my back yard. Well, not exactly in my back yard but, close enough. I have a special affinity to things being  near by. It feels like home.

I doubt anyone would believe my claim of catching a 14 inch brook trout around 17 years ago, in Fountain Creek just west of Ridge Road.  Who would have thought that there are   14 inch brook trout in our little Creek meandering through Manitou Springs (Of course the recent fires and floods have changed this creek).   

Pikes Peak, looming behind our city, has its reservoirs that hold populations of good trout. The numerous little creeks draining off the Peak are filled with Cutthroats and brookies. There have been some other surprises. It was just recently discovered that the last remaining pure strain of Greenback Cutthroats is surviving in one of those creeks. Who could have guessed those fish, the last remaining several hundred,  would be in our back yard?

I guess I ask myself: Do I even know what I have in my back yard? I have heard some fishermen speak of remote valleys with tiny creeks and beaver dams that hold nice fish. But I have rarely made the adventure to find those places.

In contrast, I also know fishermen who always, always hire a guide because they have not learned what is in their back yard or the backyards of others.  They can catch fish all over the world but don’t really know how to catch fish, on their own,  in their own home local waters.

Its not just hidden fishing places. We have some great ski places right here on the edge of town and in the forests surrounding Pikes Peaks. Now, when I say ski places I don’t mean the big ski resorts with lifts. But I do mean beautiful forest meadows and runs of mountain snow virtually untouched. I have skied on the flanks of Pikes Peak in June, in shorts and with out gloves and not see another soul. There once was a ski area on Pikes Peak. Anyone ever still ski it without the lift?  Even just a few weeks ago in my “back yard” I found snow in upper Crystal Park that was simply beautiful (see picture). True powder conditions and I was all alone. I could make the “first tracks”.

It is not just knowing where these local places exist but also having an intimate understanding of the seasons, cycles and climate of a particular place. This is true of both fishing and skiing. I have gone up to lower High Drive on the western edge of Colorado Springs when it is 60 degrees and not a drop of snow on the ground. But head up a canyon that lies in the shade and one can find ski-able snow. Fishing can be the same way. Timing hatches and seasons and the  time of day can make huge differences. It is all about knowing intimately what is going on locally.

Bill McKibben in his book, “Age of Missing Information” makes this point precisely. He says in this age of information we fail to know two things: Who are we and where we live?  He says that it takes only a matter of seconds to get the weather from around the world (or a fishing and snow/ski report for that matter), and yet, we fail to understand the particular conditions of where we live. Activities such as fishing and skiing in one’s local home place can help us better understand where we live and who we are.

Who are we? Wendell Berry, says that we need to appreciate our own local landscapes in order to know our true identity.  He says that knowing our local environment will help us know who we are. He says that familiar landscapes (ie. Perhaps for us, Pikes Peak) can help us understand our identity. He argues that our true identity is somehow connected to the local landscape.  Yet, many of us live divorced from our local land and waters.

Over the years, I have learned a few things about myself. I am beginning to know who I am. And, part of that knowing comes from knowing when I can fish a certain hatch on a certain local piece of water, or know when I can climb the flanks of Pikes Peak and find snow. This is me. Or, at least this is a part of me.  And this is me trying to know where I live.

Questioning the Call to Watch the Super Bowl

There is quite a loud “call” to watch the Super bowl. It is everywhere. It is hard to escape. Nearly everyone will watch it and nearly everyone will talk about it. The talk has already begun  The game will be analyzed, critiqued and the masses will offer their pontifications.

Very few will ever question this call to watch the game. Somehow participating in this game (well not really participating, but sitting and watching and yelling), seems to be our response to something that resembles a God given calling.  It has become almost like a national holiday, a ‘religious’ day and the norm of most of society. To many people this game, the social gatherings around it and the commercials is the greatest entertainment event of the year.   

If for no other reason other than the fact that it seems as though everyone else is doing it, I question it. Since when do we assume the masses are right? 

I pose the question: What would it take for someone to decide to not be engaged in the game? What would it have to take for someone to say this has gone far enough and to admit that something is deeply wrong here and refuse to be a part of it?  Could this game and all that is built around it ever feel deeply morally and spiritually wrong to the point where we feel it could be wrong to watch ? What would it take?

Could it be the millions and millions of dollars made by many different parties involved? Could it be the poor role models and poor sportsmanship demonstrated by many of the athletes and coaches and fans? Could it be the human sex trafficking that takes place around this event? Could it be that we realize that there must be something barbaric and desperate inside of us that wants to watch a game of such violence? Could it be all the drinking and partying associated with the game and people acting foolishly?  Could it be an awareness that we become addicted  to this game  and “need” this event to feel ‘alive’?  Could it be that we have propped up this game and it  has become a sort of religion for us?

Call me a party pooper but I for one will not watch it. I have had enough.

But what a good day to ski, fish, go for a long run or read a book. 

Tell No One: Creatures Hidden In the Forest

There is a small ski lift in Breckenridge that overlooks a small wetland area. It is a small forested shadowy area with a creek and trail that takes you over small wooden bridges. This small area reminds me of how I picture parts of Norway where stories originated of trolls hiding under bridges. It is hard to really believe this small secluded oasis exists at the base of Breckenridge, a mega-developed ski area.

I feel drawn to the seclusion of this little forest so when I grow tired of the noise and hype of the slopes I will often slip down into this area and cross country ski or run the trail. It is quiet and in the shadows. I feel kind of hidden down there. And apparently some large creatures feel the same way.

I decided to start the morning riding the lift and to work some telle turns down some easy runs. I could always detour off the main run and drop into the forest when I felt the need.  While riding the lift I was already feeling the pull of the forest and found myself gazing through the trees searching for the trail. My vision of the trail was partially blocked by the trees but I could see parts of it and pleased to see that heavy snow had found its way through the trees and covered the forest floor. As I was scanning the trail my eyes focused in on the outlines of what seemed to be two large animals. My first thought was that someone had put up a prop outline of a bear; a one dimensional silhouette made out of some dark metal. But then they moved.  Next thought; real Bears?  But they looked different than bear. The forms did not fit into any known pattern or image in my mind.  As strange as this may sound my mind then jumped to trolls even though I knew that was nearly impossible.  I leaned as I struggled to get a better visual. I was only getting glimpses as the chair moved along and up the mountain.  I only had several more seconds before I would be pulled past. Finally, I got an uninterrupted clear view and saw that the creatures were actually two moose.  They are strange looking creatures.  I kind of got excited. How often does one see moose in Colorado? Then, perhaps rather foolishly and impulsively, I yelled to the guys in the chair ahead of me and then to the couple below me; “Hey, there are two moose down there. Do you see them?”.  (I pointed and yelled again).  “Hey, you guys up there do you see them”?  It was strange (sort of like a twilight zone or a dream), but it was as though no one could hear me or understand me or they couldn’t see or maybe they were indifferent to my claim.  

Several minutes later I unloaded the lift pushing myself off the chair. Still excited about the images I had just seen I tried to tell the lift operator when I got off, “Hey, I saw two moose down below. Any one else see them?” But he apparently did not hear me either. How strange I thought.   

I’m not sure what to make of all this but I decided to shut my mouth. After I skied several runs I decided to run the trail and look around in the forest. Maybe I could find them. I brought my camera. I thought I had a reasonable chance of seeing them. How could two large moose hide in that small forest? I ran the trail back and forth and around and back again several times. Never saw a thing. Not even a track.

Now, I really do not believe in enchanted trolls that can appear and disappear in the forest. And I am not too fond of holding to the delusion that I was the only one who was supposed to see those creatures.

I know when I feel I am not being heard I feel kind of stupid for trying to share any thing with others.  It is often difficult for me to communicate my experiences to others because I tend to over think things. And spiritual experiences are even particularly more difficult.

Then I thought of an old story being on a much grander scale.  I thought of when the disciples had the amazing spiritual experience of seeing Jesus transfigured next to Elijah and Moses on the mountain and his face shone like the sun, and afterwards, when they were all coming down from the mountain, Jesus said to them, “Tell no one”.

“Tell no one”? Are you kidding me? The disciples were to be quiet about what they just saw?  Now, if that were me and if I ever had such a spiritual experience I think I would be yelling it all over the place similar to how I reacted when I saw the two large creatures.

But Jesus, at least at times, says, “Tell no one”.  I think we need to hear those words.

Maybe, during those rare times when we really have some kind of a spiritual experience we should first figure out what we have truly seen and what it means. Maybe I need to ask myself:  Do I really understand what just took place?  Was it just wishful thinking?   

And then and maybe only then I can consider if I know how to authentically, reverently and humbly communicate my experience with out appearing like a crazy fool or a ‘know it all’.  

I was left wondering why no one could hear me tell about the moose.  Maybe it was  because I came across as bragging.  Or maybe I was being overly dramatic and sensationalizing the experience? This is easy to do with spiritual experiences and of course, great fishing days. And I discovered that most people don’t really want to hear about all the fish I caught. Nor dramatic “all about me” spiritual experiences. Imagine that.

I need to ask myself truthfully, “What did I really see in those woods”?  Was it a prop, bear, moose or trolls?

Speaking of trolls, I just remembered I did not look under the bridge?

Until I can answer those questions, perhaps the best thing to do is to “tell no one”.

Perhaps, Earthly Things First

Note:  I know this title alone will cause some to think I have my priorities all messed up. And maybe that is the case. I just  know that  in my own quest of trying to learn of spiritual things that often I get it all backwards. Therefore, perhaps, at least at times, Earthly Things First.  

Jesus, told Nicodemus that he needed to be born of spirit and Jesus tried to explain to him how the wind was like the spirit.  But Nicodemus didn’t get it. He didn’t understand how a person could be born a second time.  Jesus said to him, “If you do not understand earthly things how will you understand spiritual things”?

It seems that Jesus is suggesting that we can’t skip over understanding earthly things if we are going to understand spiritual realities. We can’t just skip this step. In fact, I think we have to keep going back and relearning the earthly things as we pursue the spiritual. The path to spiritual knowledge seems to work in cycles, going back to the beginning, going back to earthly things, just as natural cycles of earth go round and round and just as Jesus some times takes us back to the beginning; Birth.  

I think Jesus was getting at something very important when he told us to, “Consider the Lily of the field”. He wanted us to consider the earthly qualities of the lily, its birth, life and death, to such an extent that we would also learn some deeper meaning. He asks us to really know the lily and spend some time with it and then we might grasp something spiritual about the lily and life. But, perhaps, as Jesus said to Nicodemus, if we are not learning the earthly things we will not get the spiritual.

Why are we not learning the earthly, natural things such as knowing how to read the skies to know if a storm is approaching or how to read the waters we fish? Most of us could not grow or obtain our own food. Why is it that so much of our culture lives life separate from natural processes?

Maybe we are just not interested, or, we don’t think earthly things are important. Maybe we were taught that wilderness has nothing to do with our spirituality when in fact our Biblical tradition tells us it does.  Maybe we just think it is more important to stay at home inside and read books about the spiritual and maybe we just don’t want to get cold, or dirty and be away from our computer gadgets, TV’s., and the comforts we have grown accustomed to.

I often meet Christians who may know their Bible and can talk about religious ideas but often there is a lack of intensity and depth. Spiritual ideas can be too domesticated and sterile.  Maybe they lack time in the “wilderness” missing nature's wonders and brutalities and at the same time miss something of the “wildness” of God.  Perhaps they have not been grounded with earthly things. A spirituality without the weight and grounding experience of earthly things seems light and lofty.  Perhaps we all need some kind of an on-going wilderness experience to know the depth and weight of earthly things so that our spiritual experience has a place to settle.   

Consider the lily said Jesus. Look at it long enough to really know that one lily on the side of the path you take to a river or the top of a mountain. Consider it, look at it, and spend time with it.

Or, consider that one tiny mayfly you often stare at and try to imitate with your hand tied flies as you watch trout sip them.  Watch that one mayfly closely. And watch that one big rainbow as it feeds. Pay attention to the swarms of mayflies overhead that fall to the water. Wonder why the fish sometimes eat them like it was their last meal or on other days, ignore them entirely.  Watch the mayflies live and die only to be reborn the next morning. Watch them die out when Fall approaches only to be born again the following Spring. Then, after several decades of standing in the river and taking into consideration these tiny bugs you may understand some thing of the Spirit. Maybe; maybe not.

Jesus spoke of other natural things such as wind, water, mountain, meadow, seeds, rock and soil. Yes, even, dirt. Jesus asks us to consider dirt and to be aware of the depth and fertility of soil in our souls. He asks us to strongly consider if seeds that blow in on the wind from another kingdom could grow in our hearts and take root and grow strong.

Do we have enough earth? Do we have enough fertile ground inside our souls?  And, do we know enough of Earthly things to understand spiritually what He is trying to teach us?

Paradise Lost And Found: Fly Fishing Possibilities In Colorado

Milton in Paradise Lost describes Eden, as, “a world that was all before them”.

Eden reminds me of how Norman Maclean, in "A River Runs Through It",  described the Montana of his youth; “It was a world with dew still on it, more touched by wonder and possibility than any I have since known.”  .

I thought of the “Edens”  I have experienced. I remember the first time as a boy I walked into a small valley to fish a pond teeming with big fish. Those were glorious mornings in a forest “with dew still on it”. For a short time, that valley, the pond, the trees, the grasses and the fish all became my Eden and it was all before me, “touched with wonder and possibility’. I felt that wonder deeply and embraced the possibilities.

Moving to Colorado when I was in my twenties was another time when it felt as though “The whole world was all before me”, and “with dew still on it”. I skied and ran over snow covered mountains and fished meandering trout streams, still water lakes, all “touched by wonder and possibility”  

The story is told how Adam and Even lost their Eden. There are times when I feel my own paradise lost. Perhaps even every day I feel some of it lost through my own stubborn solitary ways or my own ungratefulness or foolish fears. Or, maybe it is the brokenness of life itself that I feel. Or maybe I am just getting old.   

Maybe I shouldn’t but I try to bring Eden back. I sometimes try to imagine seeing the world, my Eden, as it was for the first time. I try to see it as a world that is all laid out before me;  A world with infinite wonder and possibility. A world with dew still on it.

I try to remember that this is a place, even this place, as a world that God called good. And I sometimes wonder if, even now, I can see it all as ‘they’ once did, as I perhaps once did;  a world declared good.

A new year has begun. I am getting ready to retire this Spring. “The whole world is before me. Where to choose?  Providence my guide.”  Can I once again see a world touched by wonder and infinite possibility?

I begin with “wandering steps and slow”;

The World was all before them, where to choose
Their place of rest, and Providence their guide:
They hand in hand with wandering steps and slow,
Through Eden took their solitary  way.

                                     Paradise Lost by Milton