Sky Light

"So it all has to do with celestial polarization?" Wonder asked.

The Queen of Heaven smiled and stated, "That's it in a nutshell."

Wonder looked around to see where this amazing nutshell was. He was understandably confused. The explanation of a dung beetles' ability to navigate by star and sky defied logic. Unable to locate the nutshell, Wonder looked up at the Queen of Heaven and said, "do they really dance?"

The Lady responded, "It might be more accurate to say they orientate themselves. But that's akin to saying humans only dance to find themselves. While true, it certainly misses the essence of what dance is. The impulse to dance is in your DNA, Wonder."

This in no way cleared up the many questions that assailed poor Wonder's mind. He was spared further confusion when Harmony appeared and clasped first his, and then Virtue's, hand. "Let's skip to the loo and then back home," she suggested. "Our Lady has a Fiddle Festival to attend."

"Indeed," the Queen of Heaven said. "The new batch of fiddle sticks are going to be tested!" As she gathered her gown before moving off, she smiled at Vi and said, "be sure to tell Wonder about the 'riddle of the fiddle.' "

The last thing Wonder wanted was another riddle. He was riddled to death. Never-the-less, he turned his head to Vi with a sigh.

Virtue snorted and laughed. "Wonder, relax!" she said. "You aren't expected to know all the answers. Just take it in and see what happens, okay? Harmony's here and she'll help"

"Okay, Vi."

"Okay!" Vi responded. "The riddle of the fiddle is as follows; When you rosin a bow--It's important to know--A result of that friction--Can induce benediction."

Harmony and Virtue were reduced to tears of laughter when, Wonder in tow, they exited the garden to Harmony's innocent query, "what light through yonder Wonder breaks?"

Back To The Garden

Virtue came across Wonder on a path to the Garden

"Hey Wonder."

Looking up with wide eyes, Wonder responded; "Hi Vi," and subtly reddened when Virtue hugged him. Despite his slight embarrassment, he was pleased his friend always embraced him. Virtue meant the world to Wonder.

"Whatcha doing?" asked Virtue.

"Watching a dung beetle," replied Wonder. "They always push their poo in a straight line."

Virtue laughed. "Yes, they're accomplished astronomers," said Virtue. "They navigate using the Milky Way."

Wonder gasped in amazement, never doubting Virtue. "Who would have ever dreamed of that?" marveled Wonder.

"Lets go ask Her," Virtue responded.

And so it was Wonder and Virtue made their way to the eastern entry of the Garden. A flaming sword was rotating impressively at the entrance, watched over carefully by Charles the Cherubim. Virtue passed by the sword and angel both, but Wonder hesitated. "Am I allowed?" Wonder questioned. Immediately the sword swelled to ten times its original size, blocking any possible access. "Vi, help me!" Wonder shouted.

Virtue turned, retraced her steps, and took Wonder's hand. She led him back down the path until they reached a small, overgrown trail. Virtue and Wonder were a good long while on this trail until they reached the little known western gate into the Garden. The passage way was unobstructed.

"Why is there a sword at the eastern gate," asked Wonder.

"To keep the tourists out," said Virtue.

"Am I a tourist, then, Vi?" Wonder remarked.

"No Wonder," responded Virtue. "You just doubted a good intention is all."

"Oh," Wonder mused. He recalled that Hell was paved with those.

"How come there are so many Fiddler Crabs in the Garden, Vi?" Wonder posed, carefully stepping over and around the vast horde of crustaceans that seemed to be scurrying everywhere.

"Shortage of fiddle sticks, Wonder," Virtue answered. "A real shortage of fiddle sticks."

Fiddler on the Roof*

"What is heaven like," asked Wonder.

"Quite orderly, actually," replied the Archbishop pompously. "There is, of course, ritual in all its splendor. The proper way of praying, chanting, sacrificing, and the like. Do you know there is only one way of kneeling before the Lord, or pronouncing His Unspeakable Name?"

"How does one speak an unspeakable name," wondered Wonder aloud.

"Exactly!" thundered the Archbishop. "The riff-raff have no idea! Without 'Rabbi's Rule of Order' I'm sure all Hell would break loose. Inappropriate genuflecting, alms giving,--and hugging!--there is entirely too much hugging going on, if you ask me. I am of a mind it's the celestial music that goes on to all hours of the night."

"Country music?," queried Wonder, hoping he could look forward to hearing Patsy Cline in Heaven.

"Celestial music you nincompoop," shouted the Archbishop, "CELESTIAL!"

"Fiddlesticks," muttered Wonder.

"I've got it on good authority they cleaned them out completely in the last handbasket," the Archbishop replied smugly. "Violin bows are mandatory now."



(My small tribute to Terry Pratchett and his humorous way of seeing things)

Tipping The Scales

Balance. It was all about balance. That had been one of the first things that she had learned: the centre of the seesaw had neither up nor down, but upness and downness that flow through it while it remains unmoved. You had to be the centre of the seesaw so the pain flowed through you, not into you. It was very hard. But she could do it!

~Terry Pratchett I Shall Wear Midnight

No Waiting

I want a life that sizzles and pops and makes me want to laugh out loud. And I don't want to get to the end, or to tomorrow, even, and realize that my life is a collection of meetings and pop cans and errands and receipts and dirty dishes. I want to eat cold tangerines and sing out loud in the car with the windows open and wear pink shoes and stay up all night laughing and paint my walls the exact color of the sky right now. I want to sleep hard on clean white sheets and throw parties and eat ripe tomatoes and read books so good they make me jump up and down, and I want my everyday to make God belly laugh, glad that he gave life to someone who appreciates the gift.

~Shauna Niequist Cold Tangerines: Celebrating the Extraordinary Nature of Everyday Life

Bar Hopping

1965 was my last year of Little League. I was 12 years old. During one batting practice I was in center field with a teammate when I heard a CRACK of the bat and saw the ball rising in a prodigious arc over head. I immediately turned and ran towards the point where I thought the ball would come down. (think Willie Mays in Game 1 of the 1954 World Series against Cleveland) Going full tilt with my head turned up to eye the descending ball, I ran under a chin up bar (the three level metal construct of high, medium, and lower bars) and knocked myself out. When I came to my entire team was in a circle around me. It was an interesting phenomenon, looking up at a patch of blue sky with worried faces peering down at me, and having no idea of what had taken place. I don't remember pain so much as being disengaged from reality. The 'here and now' didn't carry any significance. My brain was like a tire on an icy road...I couldn't gain any traction.

Obviously many things had taken place while I was unconscious. 13 kids and 3 coaches had time to run some 250 feet out to where I was. Someone (?) was dispatched to my house to get my mom. By far the most interesting thing that happened, though, was when I was walked (supported on either side) to the parking lot to await my moms arrival. One of the coaches (not sure which one) said; "you're just like your dad...you can't pass up a bar." 

To be sure, the comedic genius of the line was lost on me at the time. But distance and memory have enshrined the one-liner as a beautiful insight into human nature. We have the capacity to laugh when danger has passed, or even in some cases, while we are in the midst of it. Further, it isn't necessary for danger to be the essential ingredient. Any of our hopes, dreams, or desires, can be put into proper perspective with a dose of humor.

So it is with my high expectations for January. I have to laugh. I have been here before, nearly two years to the date. (see; Flatline 2-18-13) I wish continued exposure to rejection made it any easier. It doesn't. But there must be a joke in here somewhere. To that end, perhaps a contest? Finish the following premise: A Priest, a Rabbi, and Pat walk into a bar...

(The winner will receive a free copy of the e-book, "The Last Enchanted Forest.")

In The Begining Was The Word

"Likewise, exposure to WORDS related to the elderly makes people walk more slowly, WORDS related to professors make people smarter at the game of Trivial Pursuit; and WORDS related to soccer hooligans make people dumber." The Happiness Hypothesis~Jonathan Haidt  (Bargh, Chen, and Burrows, 1996--Dijksterhuis and van Knippenberg, 1998)

So, do you think the words and ideas promoted in January could make a difference in the level of intimacy you share with God?

Word on the street says it will.

Update: 2-12-15  The limits of my language are the limits of my mind. All I know is what I have WORDS for. ~Ludwig Wittenstein