Read stuff
Read my own stuff.
:- Doug.
Read my own stuff.
:- Doug.
Getting better at doing human—what could that possibly mean? Thinking aloud—talking to yourself—is one way. Attending to this very question. Seeking. A new way.
:- Doug.
Write with no conclusion. There can be no conclusion. Each must read her or his own opening out.
:- Doug.
I see a need to be playful, to sell what I have to say with a crinkle in my eye. I need to engage people, conspiratorially.
:- Doug.
Don’t tell me what you believe, but how you live your days. Do not recite this pledge or that, but tell what it looks like when you try to get better at human in the midst of an argument with your spouse, when you are disciplining your child, when you are talking with a shopkeeper.
:- Doug.
Sell it playfully.
:- Doug.
Whom can I ask? I can ask anyone. How can I ask? The only answer is haltingly, with trembles. Knowing how to ask, calculating some words to throw out, does not work as I have found. Perhaps I will get to something that does work. Perhaps it requires shaking and showing fear.
:- Doug.
So much of telling the story comes down to “describing the human condition” rather than improving how we travel the way. So much of improving the world or humans on the other common approach comes down to preaching and telling people what they ought to do. My desire is to work with each other to go beyond what we have figured out so far. I evidently reject the notion that it is all figured out already. We don’t seem to be able to do that, now do we? And who are we to say or know what is better or possible except in the trying?
:- Doug.
So the grandchild elder of 300 years is a stranger to us. This grandchild elder is on a difficult journey, too. Life is a difficult journey, full also of joy and helpers. Offering rest, an ear, and a meal are our holy duty to those we meet on the way.
:- Doug.
Will you offer this one
on a difficult journey
pausing at your door
a meal and a bed?
:- Doug.
This, my sacred work.
:- Doug.
Offer a Stranger
:- Doug.
Will you offer the stranger
a meal and a bed?
:- Doug.
These next few months need to be about reflection. They need to be developing far-sight. I do not have to travel far to see a world: a grain of sand will do.
:- Doug.
Back home! It is good to be home, to sleep in one’s own bed, to try to recall the old habits of the days, and have them recalled in one’s walks and bones.
:- Doug.
The Reflectors.
:- Doug.
God has no need of worship. Humans have the need to worship—to recognize the sacred among them.
:- Doug.
Write the story told together with the ancestors past, you, and coming.
:- Doug.
Perhaps our God is ever changing. Growing.
:- Doug.
Dreams take a lot of word and paper to record.
:- Doug.
Let it grow. Let my work grow. Day by day. By additions. Harmonizing with the ever renewing necessities of the days and generations.
:- Doug.
Give them an hour
We’ll have you talking
With the grandchildren
:- Doug.
See, behind you
they follow
they lead
:- Doug.