NOTES FROM THE 8TH DECADE #24 I Saw the Future

I SAW THE FUTURE

2014

The temperature that morning was well below freezing. Snow was falling at blizzard levels creating a near whiteout, covering the ice that had formed during the night.  By the time the dogs were ready for their morning pee several inches of snow was on the ground.  As always, Patience escorted ancient Mama Pajama out, worrying the old dog would have trouble with the frozen brick steps of the breezeway. There appeared to be an accumulation of snow on the steps, which to Patience’s dismay was actually frozen solid. Instead of her foot sinking into soft snow as expected, it quickly flew out in front of her and she found herself suspended in mid air, before landing hard on her back with her right arm hyper-extended behind her head.

Somehow she managed to crawl back into the house and call for help.  I knew from the sound of her voice there was a problem and quickly ran downstairs to find her lying on the kitchen floor just inside the doorway.   She was pale, sweating, and close to passing out from pain and nausea, and was unable to move her right arm without causing her severe pain. After several tense minutes the nausea subsided and I managed to get her upstairs and into bed, place an ice pack on her shoulder, and give her something for the pain.  We knew she had to go to the emergency room, but didn’t know how we could manage that.  It was still snowing hard, and the streets and both of our vehicles were covered with ice and snow. Unfortunately I had cataract surgery several days earlier and was under strict orders not to lift over 10 lbs. and not to bend at the waist.  As I looked out our bedroom window at the awesomeness of Mother Nature I never felt so helpless.  Until you are told not to do so, you have no idea how many times you bend at the waist in a normal day. I did not consider myself an “old man”, but that is exactly how I felt, old, helpless, and dependent on others.  At that very moment, with the winter theater in progress, I understood the full extent of what old age might be like for me in the years ahead.  My only comfort was in knowing that my current incapacitation was temporary, although that was no help to us at the time.

Fortunately our despair was blown away by the thoughtfulness of a friend who called to check on us.  When we explained our situation Jason immediately came and drove us to the Emergency Room.  Later, when Patience was cleared to go home, (no broken bones or dislocations) he picked us up and delivered us back to 803 Madison Street.

Was this experience a glimpse into my future?  I don’t know.  But I do know that in addition to being grateful for the thoughtfulness of a friend, I will be grateful for every day that I remain healthy enough to care for myself and those I love.  I will never take them for granted.  And should the day come when I am dependent on others, I can only hope there are friends and loved ones to help.

LOST IN THE MYSTERY - HOPE IN THE UNKNOWN

For most of my adult life I have struggled with my faith, traveling a path that has taken me from an outsider to an active church member and Sunday School teacher, to a man of absolute faith, to a skeptic, to an atheist, and eventually an agnostic. Seeds of doubt and skepticism have accompanied me through all of these stages.

My skepticism begins with the most obvious challenges to my sense of reason: an immaculate conception and the resurrection of Christ.  In spite of my efforts, I simply cannot suspend my belief in the laws on nature and accept this narrative that is the foundation of Christianity.

For the same reason, I cannot accept the Bible as the word of God.  I believe it to be a collection of writings and stories written by men in their attempt to understand life, and the world around them, and by men inspired by their contacts with the remarkable teachings of the historical Jesus.

When I consider all that we know about the cosmos, our own planet, and the intricacies of all living things, from the physical to the physiological, and try to imagine a God who could create it all, or a “grand designer” who could set it in motion, I ask myself, why would such an amazing being, capable of doing all of this, decide the only way to reach some of his creations would be to send a man, born of a virgin mother, to preach in one part of this world, ignoring the rest of the worlds population? And then have him killed to save all men and women? It makes no sense, and for me, God has to make sense.

I have been asked, isn’t it possible that there exist things that are beyond our capacity to understand?   The only answer is yes, that is always possible.  But if you take that line of reasoning, it is also possible that somewhere there are pigs that can fly.  The question is not only is something is possible, but is it probable.

I can accept the possibility of some impersonal being or force – a grand designer or God – being responsible for setting everything in motion.  The result of which is the world we live in, a world full of contradictions, where love and hate, and good and evil, exist side by side. Humans have the capacity to create and destroy, and to nurture and injure.   We also have the capacity to imagine something better, and to create for ourselves a god to explain what we cannot explain.  I cannot accept the possibility of God as an objective reality, certainly not the God of Abraham, as described in the Old and New Testaments.  If there is a God who loves us, he has a strange way of showing it.

Unfortunately, I need God, I really do, and that is a difficult predicament for me to be in. It would be nice to have an unwavering faith to lean on in difficult times – and in good times also.  There is considerable comfort in the idea of a grand divinity that cares for us and will listen to our whining, pleading, and praises.  I’ve tried to find that faith, chasing after it for too many years.  Once I thought I had, but it was not meant to be.

Unfortunately hard science, in which I place a great deal of trust, is unable to explain all that I have experienced.  For the past 40 years the foundation of my life has been my trust in all things numinous: instinct, intuition, and a devotion to a spiritual center within me.  I have embraced this mysterious center as my soul and am not troubled by its conflict with the scientific.  One would think that this is only a simple step away from God, and that may be.  But I have not been able to make that step, so I have found contentment in this unknowing, while I attempt to understand the width and breadth of the human spirit.  If there is a God, this is where he will be found.

I have absolutely no doubt about the power of faith and the belief in a caring and loving God.  History tells us the remarkable stories of men and women who have accomplished incredible feats in His name.  In my opinion, faith in a higher power mobilizes forces within our selves, rather than divine intervention from above.  But what if the only way to access that inner power is by believing it comes from beyond our selves?

No matter how I look at this, and I have been doing so for all of my adult life, I end up in the same place…a spiritual life grounded in mystery… the mysterious unknowing.

NOTES FROM 8TH DECADE #23 CHRISTMAS EVE 2014

CHRISTMAS EVE 2014

I sat by the Christmas tree in my new recliner, a gift from Patience, listening to the Christmas music on my computer. The room was bathed in the warm light from the tree, and the house was quiet and still. This Christmas Eve solitude had become a ritual for me since moving to Paducah, a time of nostalgia for the Christmas eves of the past, shared with my children and my parents. I found myself looking forward to bittersweet memories with a sadness that was warm and comforting.  

But it was not to be. This year the memories remained warm and comforting, but the sad nostalgia was gone. It could not displace my complete comfort in the moment at hand, the feelings of loss that I experienced in previous years was replaced by joy and gratitude for the life I have now.

One more milestone in this journey we call life.

NOTES FROM THE 8TH DECADE #22

I’M JUST GETTING STARTED

Spring 2014

 

Gone are those “woe is me” feelings believing my best days are behind me, the result of misguided thinking that plagued me the first few years into this eighth decade.   I was convinced it was time to limit my aspiration and dreams, and distraught because I could not imagine a future for myself. My life’s work of the past 35 years was growing old and tired, or so I thought. My attitude was easy to read for those that know me well, and my daughters expressed some concern about my wellbeing.

However gloom and doom are not part of my nature, and optimism and trust are. I eventually found myself engaged in a year-long project, creating a book of drawings and painting – A Paducah Portfolio. Upon completion of the book in November of 2013 I found myself energized and eager to take on even larger projects, without concern about “limited years”. Suddenly my age was immaterial, and I knew I could do whatever it was I wanted to do. I was excited about the future and began making plans for new work, including one or more books of art. I had high hopes for 2014.

I spent the first part of the year working my way through a list of commissions, and although one of the anticipated projects never materialized, I worked at a slow but steady pace on the other (a portfolio of architectural art on Oak Park IL.)  I celebrated my 75^th birthday in May, an un-necessary reminder that I was getting older.  It was also the month I became a “community columnist” for our newspaper, the Paducah Sun. Having been harboring fantasies about becoming more that a hobbyist in the craft of writing for many years, this was a big deal for me, and I promptly began spending more time on the keyboard, revising and rewriting old essays and narratives, as well as producing new work. By the end of the year I was publishing one to two columns a month, and suddenly I found myself facing a new future, one where writing would play a major role in my life.