Ending

Imbolc                                                              Hare Moon

In that slightly down place that completing a course produces.  Yes, it feels great to have stuck with it, finished.  And, yes, it feels very good to have the new knowledge.  But there’s now a hole where the climate change course was.  This is not the same feeling I had when ModPo and the Modern/Post-Modern courses finished.  That was more like exhilaration.

This one mattered to me.  I’m not sure where or what I’ll do next. There are books to read, several recommended by the professors.  There’s the America Votes work and the possibility of using Great Wheel as some kind of vehicle to further mitigation and adaptation in Minnesota. But right now I feel deflated, a bit overwhelmed by the magnitude of the task that lies ahead for all of us.  This will pass.  But it’s there.

Since I finished earlier than I imagined, I’ll be able to work on my query letters tomorrow. I am also starting a new course focused on personal change that I don’t expect to be as demanding as this course was.  I let Whitman slide, did basically nothing and that’s the first one I’ve done that with, but I had overextended myself and something had to give.

 

It’s About Time

Imbolc                                                               Hare Moon

A long time ago, during college, while majoring in philosophy and anthropology, I read an article about the maturation points in different academic disciplines.  Mathematicians on the very young end of the scale and philosophers at the other, older end.  At that time my interest was theory of the social sciences.  That is, theoretical anthropology, psychology, sociology.  What were the major philosophical questions that each discipline raised by the assumptions and research methodologies it employed.

This turned out to be an unfortunate focus because I got turned down at three graduate schools for fellowships because no money was on the table for people wanting to focus on theory. At the time I was not interested in changing my orientation, so I passed on graduate school.  A decision I have regretted off and on ever since.

Ending up in seminary actually allowed me to continue my interest in theory since theology is just that, a philosophical and theoretical approach to the questions raised by religion.  I loved it.  Of course, there was that vocation on the other end, ministry, but at first I ignored that and enjoyed the work. (and the politics.)

That process funneled me (somewhat by inertia) into getting ordained, working for the church.  Even then, though, I still wondered about the systems of the church, how congregations worked, how they grew and declined, how the various denominations grew and declined.  My Doctor of Ministry thesis was on the decline of the Presbyterian Church from a post-modern perspective.

Anyhow, after I pulled back from that 20 year immersion in the Christian world, I revisited that earlier question about maturation.  When I looked at that material during college, I’d concluded that I would mature late, probably very late since I was interested in theory, a sort of meta-perspective on politics, social science and religion.

And so, now, in my 67th year, I can report that I feel the maturation process beginning to congeal.  It’s not yet finished, probably never will be, but I’m beginning to see how my odd path through the world has led me to today and how I might use that path for the good of others.  In large part, I’ll do that by continuing to write, continuing to learn Latin, continuing to educate myself, continuing to grow things with Kate and continuing some level of political activity.

(Jacob Wrestling the Angel, Maurice Denis)

I do think you will see more from me over the next few years in the form of ideas and actions.  It’s exciting to me to see that possibility ahead.

Warmer

Imbolc                                                                  Hare Moon

50 degrees yesterday.  Dripping ice created a torrent in our downspouts, as if a hard rain was falling.  This is still, I think, a gradual melt, so I’m ok with the temperatures.  Not that I can do anything about them anyhow, of course. That rain forecast for today? Not so happy about that.  Slow melt good.  Fast melt bad.

Waking up to moist air, warm (over against -15) and carrying the scent of the woods and the soil, moves me forward along with the turning of the Great Wheel. My body begins to synch itself with the change, pushing me toward the outside, a part of me unfurling with the sun’s changed angle, the increased warmth.

A lot to do this week before I leave for Tucson, so I’d better get to it.  Finish the climate change course.  Send off my query letters.  Always more Latin.  A couple of putzy tech things. Call Enterprise. Get my packing organized.  A two week plus trip on the road requires different packing than a weekend flight to Denver.