The People...

 There are levels in life.

People manage, supervise, have duties that demand attention.  

Yet, it still boils down to content of character.

My GreatGrandma always said 'it's who you are, not what you are'.  It's a truism shared by many.  But it's profound for each.

People respond in many ways to others.

In certain groups, I was a supervisor, pastor, therapist etal.  

I was not above them.  I was with them.

One of the best pastors I knew was like that.  He related and though he led them, he was one of them.

The worst kind is the authoritarian.  Above and not below.

It might be a desire to be a leader with answers or at least ability to counsel.

Or it's preening superiorism.  Up there not down here.

Among the people, I had great positive response.  People trusted me and wanted me to help.

They sought to lift me up.

I sought to be on their sides.

I helped by inspiring people to help themselves, to inspire potential.

No wonder the neopharissees wanted me gone.

The org should serve the people, not the people the org.

Regrets...

 I have zigged when I should have zagged.

I do not obsess about mistakes I've made.  I remember when I went a certain path.

The point is I have learned.

If I had followed through with certain actions, who knows about profession and whatever success might have been.

I live with the results, good, bad and in between, like we all do.  

I don't wallow in despair, nor failure.

I am here now.

I have a life to live with the gifts given me by our Creator.

I don't live in the past.  I learn from it.  

Lift up your hearts and give life its due.  

I know some feel at their wits end.  End of rope?  Tie a knot and hang on!

We are here to help, encourage, heal.  Ourselves and others.

Follow your dreams and don't be your worst enemy.

Plan A, B, C, etc.

Points Redux

 Doubt I'll make a habit of this.  I reiterate but prefer to go on.  Probably no 'best of'.

But, here is something spurred on by a previous thought re confessions.

Points

 Of contact.

I remember a certain fundamentalist group doing a group healing with oil.  They used a tissue as a point of contact for the recipient far away.  Don't know if it worked but the prayers didn't hurt.

We use focal points in order to concentrate energy, to give emphasis or momentum to address.

This is where words and deeds converge, where ideas turn into determination.  

How do we touch people, a subject, a project?

Declarations precede action and the action starts at a point then spreads.

Do prayers work?  We only know if we pray.

We have to start somewhere.

Fate

 The end?  Beginning?

Destiny.  Our future.

They -sic- say 'luck is preparation meeting opportunity'.  

I'm just throwing out thoughts here.  Kind of a pastiche or a palette for a portrait.  

We are never alone, but many of those corporeal folks on the journey have gone to spirit.  Their fate transforms, while those of us here have further work to do.  It unfolds as needed.

Sure, some have a clearer view.  But, nonetheless, we are here til we are not.

Then we can come and go.

Some say there is no fate but what we make.  I refer to the aforementioned luck statement. 

I think it's probably that and something smack dab in the path/face.  

There are no coincidences.  All our yesterdays coalesce.

Keep thinking and doing. 

Cata And Bags

 In my capacity as a student minister, I was in some unique situations.

Then again, I've had some singular opportunities most of my life.

I was in a position to listen to confessions.  Not like our friends in RCC etc, but nonetheless I counseled and above all listened.  

This included several pastors and church workers.

I was trustworthy and some of them needed to go 'outside' official function.  Not sure what that says about the organization.  At any rate, I listened and counseled including up into my clinical psych education.

Of course, I'm not revealing anything.  I will take what I heard when I cross over.

I don't dwell on all that.  It just crosses my mind now and then.  And it gives me a chance to reflect on that period.

I listened and we prayed for healing and well being.  It was rather like a point of contact and we knew God ultimately listened.  But as we are in this world together, it is well for us to share.  

It was initially startling that established folks poured out their souls to me.  Then I realized it was simply part of my calling/service.

Lending an ear, no excuses and a chance to think were shared.

I hope all are well who are still here.  Several have gone to spirit.

I never let a cat out of a bag.  Confession, even this type, is/was sacrosanct. 

We worked through several issues and there were of course referrals.

We are all in this together.  All our yesterdays coalesce.  

Sometimes working/thinking outside the box has its value

I thank God I was there for them.   

Oldsters

 I've covered this several times before.

Life is always valuable.  It merely shifts.

My Grandpa, my Mom's Dad, lived with us.  He was a good guy and had done his share.  

We helped the elderly at the church I served as a student.  Many wonderful memories of folks and their stories.  That was the main thing.  Listening.  Taking/spending time.

We help when needed but we celebrate independence.  Always there is care and dignity.  You never know when and who.

We must respect far beyond age.  We must hold close the person.

No matter how long nor what comes, we all need content of character.

Remember the past.  Don't live in it.

You might be surprised by the present.

Future?  

Pass it on.

Mister P

 When teachers were teachers.

Male teachers were rare in my student days, except for gym teachers.

Mister P was jr high social studies.  Then he was promoted to principal.  This was not the end of his teaching.

He often filled in for teachers who had emergency days off.  It was always a treat for us to have him inspire us.

Mister P was the kind of teacher who indeed inspired students to learn, to inquire and thing for themselves.

One could say he was suave.  Well dressed and groomed, he had a modulated voice and one could sense his love for education.  He created curiosity and kids reached out on their own past school time to learn for the sake of learning.

A consummate storyteller, I think my favorite recitation was Ozymandias.

I still hear his dramatic voice sculpting a tale of disintegrated vanity.

It still teaches me of fleeting fame and power.  and the Biblical admonition of what happens when one gains the world and loses one's soul.

He left our school and resumed teaching jr high social studies.

One other memory was his resolute strength the day JFK was murdered.

Shared strength.

I pray and encourage others to be like him and many teachers of yesteryear.

How about you?