Not an atheist

Summer and the Radiation Moon (written in July)

Wanted to say something about this for a while, keep forgetting.

I’m not an atheist. Not an agnostic. Nope. Don’t choose to define myself over against a belief system which no longer works for me. I’m a seeker. Of awe. Of kindness. Of justice. I’m a lover of the earth, the universe, of life, of amazement. I see in you the universe looking back at me, as I look at you.

Text based faith, any system which requires your surrender, written or spoken or enacted, is a web meant to catch the easily gulled. And, guess what? Most of us gull pretty easily, most of the time. I did for years and years, once as a child then later as an adult after my leap of faith moment in Appleton. 1970.

But no. What we need is to open our eyes, unstop our ears, savor the taste and touch of the world, smell the communication, the revelation from what’s out there, near us or far from us.

Failure

Lughnasa and the Moon of the First Harvest


Had breakfast with Alan yesterday at the Lakeshore Cafe. Told him about the interesting failure of the bank we tried to create for the poorest of the poor. This was after a 1989 trip to Bogota where we spent a week with staff of the Fundacion Grupo Social.

This group, now a huge corporation, began with Jesuit inspired credit circles for citizens of barrio Jerusalem. In order to give small loans when these folks had no assets the Jesuits conceived of co-signing. If I wanted money to start a small business or build a home (a shack, really), you could co-sign as my guarantor. The default rate on these loans was minimal. Social cohesion is as good as a down payment. This was the start of the micro-credit idea.

We worked hard for a year to put together a Minnesota version, but a recession forced the bank that was working with us to withdraw their generous offer of two million dollars for capitalization.

Alan asked last week over breakfast what I’d done. When I told him a few things: West Bank Community Development Corporation work, Jobs Now, MICAH (Metropolitan Interfaith Affordable Housing Coalition), Minnesota Council of Non-Profits, I surprised myself by being eager to talk about it. Realized that with the exception of Kate and Jon a little bit, no one here in Colorado knew my Minnesota story, my second phase of family and work.

Life is so different here. No contacts. No friends of decades. Only a few places with memories, most tied to the grandkids.

The West has always been a place to start over for Americans from the humid east, guess I’m no exception. No expectations based on prior achievements or prior failures. A new person rising where the sun sets.



The Last Week

Lughnasa and the Moon of the First Harvest

One more week. 5 fractions. 50 minutes. Photons off. Make it so.

Stomach unhappy as I head into the final round of CyberKnife sessions. Not unexpected, but I thought I had it managed. Nope. Head down, forward.

Some fatigue, more after the treatments and the drive home. More now than the first four weeks. Low energy, low motivation. I’ve given exercise and the radiation first place each day. Today, my third resistance session for the week, I plan to up my workout to three sets for each exercise from the initial two. No Lone Tree trip for today and tomorrow.

Dinners from the Mitzvah committee folks will keep coming for two more weeks. After that I should be running around like a guy with his cancer cut off. Cooking, writing, generally raisin’ hell.

May it be so.