Hopeful Thinking

Meditation     How shall we know world peace? How will it come when it does? Do you have faith enough to believe that humanity will survive our worst fears? Do you believe that we will survive this age? Think. Do you believe world peace will eventually come? If you do, how might it happen? If we were to use our imagination to write a story about the peace of this planet what would be our storytelling device? How does corruption become unprofitable? Because it will, you know. How do the refugees find a safe haven? Because someday they will, you know. How does hunger end? How does pollution end? How does the world step off the self-destruct button? Because it will, you know. We will know peace someday. We give thanks and honor to that future age. Namasté . Message: 500 Years Do I have your attention? Because this is going to be a journey. Let’s peel this back like an onion. On what levels are we aware of things? What do we consider consciousness? We know about o...

    We have to accept the fact that within the span of a single lifetime the world of spirituality, religion and tradition has changed utterly. Faster than any shift has been accomplished in literally thousands of years. Our heads are spinning. Everyone older than forty can attest to the difference. Many younger as well. In the span of only a few decades our freedom of religion has grown to include the words ‘and from’ as well. This is a good thing. Some may argue it’s the best thing that has ever happened to organized religion to date.     In Fitchburg it was once compulsory by law to attend—and tithe—weekly. If for some very good reason you were unable to be present in church, not to worry. The city provided well-wishers with wicker baskets to walk the streets on Sunday morning and collect your offering.     It is soon the 500th anniversary of the day Martin Luther tapped his protest of the Catholic church to the doors of the Wittenberg Cathedral and ...

  People often think I’m quite a busy person. I do tend to give that impression. Although I’m certain it’s more indicative of a lack of efficiency than actual accomplishment. Looking busy isn’t the same as getting stuff done. People see me driving all over town in my ramshackle red minivan and they don’t realize the reason they keep seeing me is because I keep forgetting where I’m driving. The only truly busy thing about me is my mind.     I remind myself, however, that with my busy mind comes both good and less-good. The people who love me remind themselves the same, thankfully. But that’s how we all remain loving and hospitable. We choose to accept both the good and the less-good, even the bad sometimes in those we love. Yet we don’t grant ourselves the same grace or mercy that we often give to our loved ones. Or worse, we give it to no one.     I was at the box store the other day chatting with my friend Linda. She asked me how I survive it all. My answe...

Those that know me find it hard to believe, because I appear to be quite an extrovert, but I’m actually a fairly self-conscious and shy person. Especially in situations where I don’t personally know anyone. It has always been quite difficult for me to accept invitations. But I noticed a long time ago it was holding me back from life. It was holding me back from a potential inside which I believe each of us has. I was hiding my light because I was afraid. Not an unusual amount of fear, just the standard stuff. But that’s the tenor of fear we tend to disregard because it sits just below the surface largely not bothering anyone. It does its work quietly. Hinting that it would be so much nicer to just stay home tonight. Thanks anyway.            Many years ago I made a secret pact with myself. I made it with God also, but we each have different responsibilities in the deal. My end is harder to keep. I promised to accept invitations. I...

I missed my deadline this past week. I procrastinated. Lost track of the days. I know exactly why. I was uncomfortable with what I knew I had to write about: facing tragedy. There’s been so much of it lately. And it seems to be piled on top of already too much upheaval, too much world sorrow. What is there to say that doesn’t sound contrite, or worse, condescending? What advice is there to give? No heart has ever heeded the command to heal. It does it on its own time, if even then. As an optimist I know all too well; “Look on the bright side!” has its limitations. I ask myself, what is my own consolation in these times? What settles my soul when the even the planet itself appears to be angry with humanity? It’s easy to imagine the development of ancient mythological storylines where furious gods demand our undivided attention. We feel punished. Where goes the optimist then? In the Book of Jōb, when Jōb is at his lowest—his wealth, his family, his health, all gone—the first thi...

      I was living in New York City in 1993. A few blocks away from where I was having lunch one day in late February, terrorists bombed the basement of the North Tower of the World Trade Center. I felt the ground shake. I thought it was an earthquake. I was correct. Eight years later, living in my hometown of Fitchburg, Massachusetts, I was planning a short trip back into Manhattan. I had dinner reservations at the Windows on the World Restaurant on top of the North Tower booked for 8:15pm on Sept 12, 2001. On the morning of the 11th I was packing for my trip into the city when I saw the second plane hit the South Tower on the news. The North Tower, and the restaurant, were already gone. I could not immediately bring myself to think about what else was lost.       Early the next morning, New York City Mayor Rudy Giuliani urged us in his press conference to continue living. So I got on the first train to Manhattan as I had originally planned. I didn’t k...