Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Wisdomly Challenged
Once upon a time, I was the Equipment Manager for a small (non-travelling) circus. It was my job, technically, to "oversee" the set up and tear down of various circus apparati. Frequently, I would stand back and watch as someone did something completely wrong, and then, once they got to that "I have no idea how this works" point, I would come over to show them the right way.
Now, I did this for purely selfish reasons. I really don't like to talk to people, so if I simply waited until they realized on their own that their way did not work, it spared me the trouble of having to explain why we do not do things that way, and made them far more receptive to the proper way of doing things, so the whole conversation was much shorter. Also, I would occasionally be surprised that their way actually did work, and I would do it that way myself from then on.
Interestingly enough, God is the same way. Not that God is lazy, antisocial, or has anything to learn from us, but for whatever reason, He will let us do something completely wrong for as long as it takes for us to figure it out on our own. Then when you are flush out of ideas, you may be surprised to find that God was standing there patiently watching the whole time.
I bring this up because I recently came to the realization that the only important thing that I have really learned in the past two years is that I have learned nothing at all.
Today though, I'm feeling optimistic. Maybe it's because I have "F5/6" written on the back of my hand, and I'm confident that, at the end of the day, I will actually be able to find my !@#$%^& car.
I still prefer the term "Fool."
Now, I did this for purely selfish reasons. I really don't like to talk to people, so if I simply waited until they realized on their own that their way did not work, it spared me the trouble of having to explain why we do not do things that way, and made them far more receptive to the proper way of doing things, so the whole conversation was much shorter. Also, I would occasionally be surprised that their way actually did work, and I would do it that way myself from then on.
Interestingly enough, God is the same way. Not that God is lazy, antisocial, or has anything to learn from us, but for whatever reason, He will let us do something completely wrong for as long as it takes for us to figure it out on our own. Then when you are flush out of ideas, you may be surprised to find that God was standing there patiently watching the whole time.
I bring this up because I recently came to the realization that the only important thing that I have really learned in the past two years is that I have learned nothing at all.
Today though, I'm feeling optimistic. Maybe it's because I have "F5/6" written on the back of my hand, and I'm confident that, at the end of the day, I will actually be able to find my !@#$%^& car.
I still prefer the term "Fool."
Comments:
I figured it was time for SOMEONE to post a comment. ;) I appreciate your postings... please keep it up. (They're truly intriguing!)
-Jeff A.
-Jeff A.
# posted by 
: 10/07/2004 7:58 AM
: 10/07/2004 7:58 AM
Timoth,
I have read your blog before, but not frequently, and have never commented directly. Someone once said that "home is where the heart is" and for the last six years, "home" has been where mom and I have been at the time. I, too, have never really felt our current house is home, for some of the same reasons you do (having spent considerably less time living there than you have). Maybe when mom and I left on our current adventure, we pulled up more roots than just our own. I congratulate you on finding a direction (although it is not one I would have chosen) and your continuity. I regret not having seen more of your poems/lyrics, or hearing them set to music. I hope you can find a way to continue with some part of that aspect of your former self.
I have read your blog before, but not frequently, and have never commented directly. Someone once said that "home is where the heart is" and for the last six years, "home" has been where mom and I have been at the time. I, too, have never really felt our current house is home, for some of the same reasons you do (having spent considerably less time living there than you have). Maybe when mom and I left on our current adventure, we pulled up more roots than just our own. I congratulate you on finding a direction (although it is not one I would have chosen) and your continuity. I regret not having seen more of your poems/lyrics, or hearing them set to music. I hope you can find a way to continue with some part of that aspect of your former self.
# posted by : 10/08/2004 4:11 AM
: 10/08/2004 4:11 AM
Is it possible to know someone for say 26 years and not know them? Do people live parallel lives, or are lives like the pendulum mentioned in one of the blogs?--swinging outward and backward, sometimes in concert but maybe sometimes one of the persons steps sideways and then the two lives are no longer in sync. One thinks of these things in relation to marriage--lives
moving together and then inexplicably (or not) diverging causing in many cases the relationship to fail.
Home and heart. Do parents ever stop feeling guilty for some of the things they do to their kids? Some things they know about, some things they don't (can they worry about those things?). What happens when the parents leave? Is it a kind of death for the child? The roots are gone? And what if the
parents continue a peripatetic life? Where is their home? What if they feel equally strange in their 'home' a place that isn't quite theirs? Ah, but they have each other. For them, home is where the other is, where they build (continue to build) their lives together. What does that mean for the
child? Is it helpful for him to know that the parents are happy together, that even though distance separates they still love very much the child?
An occasional record of one's thoughts over several months (eventually years) helps. And so what if no one else reads it. Literate people used to write daily (and presumably private) journals. Now we have internet. We can write our thoughts and others can read (maybe, maybe not). Whatever,
it's a good plan.
At this point, I detect a path, a direction that appeared to be missing before. The image I have is of someone who has been wandering in dark, tangled, gloomy places, but who is now reaching the edge of that or who has already reached the edge and is moving slowly but steadily away--casting backwards glimpses to be sure, but still moving away through a less shadowy place filled with filtered light and strengthening colors.
The poem on the wall beside me is entitled 'blackbird'. It received a sweepstakes prize in 1996. What new brighter bird watches over you now?
Mom xxxooo
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moving together and then inexplicably (or not) diverging causing in many cases the relationship to fail.
Home and heart. Do parents ever stop feeling guilty for some of the things they do to their kids? Some things they know about, some things they don't (can they worry about those things?). What happens when the parents leave? Is it a kind of death for the child? The roots are gone? And what if the
parents continue a peripatetic life? Where is their home? What if they feel equally strange in their 'home' a place that isn't quite theirs? Ah, but they have each other. For them, home is where the other is, where they build (continue to build) their lives together. What does that mean for the
child? Is it helpful for him to know that the parents are happy together, that even though distance separates they still love very much the child?
An occasional record of one's thoughts over several months (eventually years) helps. And so what if no one else reads it. Literate people used to write daily (and presumably private) journals. Now we have internet. We can write our thoughts and others can read (maybe, maybe not). Whatever,
it's a good plan.
At this point, I detect a path, a direction that appeared to be missing before. The image I have is of someone who has been wandering in dark, tangled, gloomy places, but who is now reaching the edge of that or who has already reached the edge and is moving slowly but steadily away--casting backwards glimpses to be sure, but still moving away through a less shadowy place filled with filtered light and strengthening colors.
The poem on the wall beside me is entitled 'blackbird'. It received a sweepstakes prize in 1996. What new brighter bird watches over you now?
Mom xxxooo
# posted by : 10/17/2004 4:00 PM
: 10/17/2004 4:00 PM
