Overprotected?

The worst part of swimming is the end of the pool. You never really get anywhere, or go anywhere – just back and forth, back and forth. I swam 2200 yards today. It took an hour. I could have walked that distance at a leisurely pace in 20 minutes. A decent swimmer could have done it in 25 minutes.

I’m just slow. At the triathlon they calculate your average pace in seconds per 100 yards. They calculate my average time in relative progress, you know, like a glacier. I swim sort of like congress – lots and lots of flailing around causing lots of waves and noise but very little actual progress.

2200 yards is down and back 44 times. Swimming that far is one thing, keeping track of laps in another. My system is count up to 10 and then back down to 1, over and over. It’s hard to be sure you counted all the laps. 2200 yards is 1.2 miles, counting every one minute and 10 seconds – 7, 8, 9, 10, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5 and on and on. Yesterday I ran 15 miles- one lap.

I have to say, however, that I m beginning to enjoy swimming, at times. Since I’m taking it real easy and not pushing it I can keep heart rate down, and actually relax. So, especially for the first 30 minutes today it just felt so relaxing to be in the water, and the sun was shining, I could think about editing the three, no four movies I’m currently working on.

I never thought I would ever say I enjoyed swimming.

I swim in the community pool and I arrived when it opened at 10:00. I was the only person there except for the four life guards. It was certainly the safest miles anyone ever swam.

That’s a little bit like our lives – we are sometimes over-protected in the wrong areas. We have insured our houses, health expenses, cars, and income. We lock our doors, secure our computers, and apply sun screen. But what system is keeping track of our heart? What alarm goes off when we speak a harsh word, or put someone down, or tear someone down when they aren’t there? Who jumps in to rescue us when we discount all the blessings we have and turn a craving eye on cars, houses, jobs, lifestyles, vacations? What system do we have to keep tender hearts open to the lost, the poor, or the needy?

Natural Causes

Dying of natural causes puts life in a different perspective. It’s nobody’s fault, it’s not life cut short, it’s not some tragic accident, just a life that has run its course. The cicada I ran past today was dying of natural causes; spinning around in sputtering circles on its back. I wonder why bugs die on their backs.

Anyway, seeing the insect die got me thinking about life and death. A quote came into my mind, something about “We are all dying slowly every day.” I’m sure you have heard that line of thinking. I suppose, in a way, it is true. We are finite, every day brings us closer to the end of our life.

Well, anyway, today it seemed to me that the opposite is true, that every day we are becoming more alive. This life is only the first stage in our life cycle, this body only a cocoon. This life can be amazing at times, but we, like caterpillars have to crawl around in the dirt and inch our way through life. But in the next we’ll fly like butterflies.

And, if we can believe the words of Jesus, what we do in this life will have an effect on our life in the next. So, in many ways we are just beginning to live, and every day we become more alive.

Rosy glasses

When I bike I am usually in a city, since the nearest non-city space is almost 10 miles away. City biking has its own challenges, like paying enough attention to traffic to avoid getting smacked by a big truck, and dodging pot holes. Also, instead of road kill on the shoulder there are lots of nails, small bits of metal, and other construction material which collect in the gutters.

But lately, as my training for the Pigman has required longer rides, I’ve been out in the country a little bit. The country is always nice, and North Texas is no exception. I love to hear the birds, and insects, and the wind in the trees. The land is gently rolling and is mostly pasture although some of the ground is cultivated. There are lots of trees here, but no forests. Everything that grows looks happy enough, but tough and hard. It shows the years of blazing heat, scarce rainfall, poor soil, and cold winter winds, and yet the harsh environment made it stronger and healthier.

I just got back from my ride this evening and I was going to write about how amazingly red the sunset was. I couldn’t ever remember seeing such a beautiful red, red setting sun. But as I started writing I realized my sunglasses made it look red!

Well, nevertheless it was a beautiful sunset, even if colored rosy by my glasses.

Survival

Katy wanted to ride a bike to the library. She thought Susan’s bike would be good, but, in the typical Dad “You can do it” spirit, I suggested mine. “Susan’s is so small, and the tires need air.”

The seat was a little high so I lowered it. Katy said it felt a little too high still, but I thought it was about the right height for best efficiency so I had her try it a little. Oh, and there was also the foot strap to deal with. “It’s ok” I assured her, just remember to take your foot out before you stop. She was pretty hesitant, but I encouraged her that she could do it, and just try it a little to see if that seat height isn’t right.

She went 20 feet, the seat felt too high, she tried to stop, forgot the foot strap, stopped the bike and fell right over in the alley.

As she rode away on Susan’s bike I had a flash-back of the time I was teaching Andy to drive and sent him up a one way street the wrong way. Sometimes I wonder how my kids survived me.

New Things

I looked for the humming bird today but it was not there. It’s a common mistake we make in life – we keep looking in the same place but the “prize” keeps moving. Now I know what you Christians out there are saying to yourselves, “If you are looking for God you can find Him in the same place because He never moves.” However, I submit that as our relationship with God grows we meet him in a different place too. Like Lucy in the Chronicles of Narnia, I think it’s in Prince Caspian. The children had been gone for a time, and had recently returned to Narnia. In her first conversation with Aslan she says, “Aslan, you are bigger than you used to be” and he say’s, “No, I haven’t grown, you have.”

So, anyway, I don’t know what cool things I will experience today, but seeing the humming bird among the Crepe Myrtles by the soccer fields is not one of them.

Humming Birds

I can’t believe I haven’t written since Sunday! This week is flying by.

So yesterday while on my morning run I saw a humming bird. At first I thought it was an insect (apparently everything grows big in Texas, except humming birds.) The thing about humming birds, at least for me, is that I can’t stop watching them. I love that hovering thing, and aside from being completely captivated, I imagine how awesome it would be to fly around like that. For me to move anything that fast is impossible and for the bird it’s effortless. What a great lesson in individuality! Do what you were created to do. After all, the humming bird is excellent at sucking nectar out of flowers, but can it grill steak and roasting ears?

Also, what an interesting glimpse at God’s creativity and engineering chops. Here’s a creature that looks like a bird but flies like an insect. And how can it flap so fast so efficiently – an elegant design. They say you can learn about an artist by looking at his/her work. I think the same is true about God. This bird is an engaging combination of whimsy and brilliance, and what does that say about its designer?

More Water: Duck tracks

My mind is still on water and rain. Of course water is a big part of our life, but with the wet weather it seems even more so. Today I’m thinking about dew. I posted a video to go along with this entry on my MySpace site - http://www.myspace.com/slivermoonglobal Click on "My videos" under my picture and click on "Duck Tracks."

I was in the middle of my morning run and the dew was thick on the grass. Everyone else uses the sidewalk, so I don’t know who had been there before me that day, but I run on the grass, leaving a dotted trail in the unbroken dewy grass. As I ran next to the pond I noticed someone had been there before me – it was a duck.

I ran next to the little foot prints, up and down the hills for a few minutes and then I looked back to see two tracks in the dew – his little dots close together, sometimes blurring together into one solid line, and my big splotches farther apart.

For some reason I felt a bond with the duck, you know, like we had been down the same road and had shared experiences.

Well, that’s just the way my mind works.

So, anyway, I thought about the short-legged dew treader meandering up and down the hills, and wondered: how long did it take him? Is it hard for him to walk up the steep hill? Why was he walking there? Was the dew cold on his feet? I wondered if he felt like me - did the morning air in his lungs compel him to live the coming day hard and full? Were his little duck eyes just as mesmerized as mine looking at the reflection of the new day in the perfectly calm water?

We left our mark, the duck and I, in the dew – two careless lines of green among the wetter green carpet, a fleeting witness to our presence, passage and purpose. Our brief mark on the world would evaporate within the hour. Like so many things we do in a day – leaving no lasting mark.

I remembered something I saw during the Pigman spring triathlon several years ago. On the side of the road, preserved in concrete, are a good long set of raccoon tracks. Apparently the little critter walked on the road while the cement was still wet. They will be there as long as the road lasts.

There are some things in our lives that don’t fade away: our wedding day, the birth of our children, graduation days. Sometimes there are big events like reunions, or vacations together, or trips which leave a lasting impact. I think for me there were big projects I did with others that left a lasting impression on all of us, like writing and performing musicals or movies, or the music tour. Also, there were lasting things I did on my own like marathons performances and travel.

So, my point is that, while most parts of most days are spent making tracks that will fade by the time the sun rises high, it is worth working towards big things. As we attempt weightier and more substantive goals we experience a fuller, more meaningful life. Also, at times we can even make someone else’s life more meaningful. Some people even made such lasting tracks that they impact people long after their own life is over: Beethoven, CS Lewis, Ghandi, Mother Teresa.

Well, that’s what I was thinking about when I ran next to the duck tracks.

I ran on and imagined my little friend waddling along thought about how much effort it must have taken him, and how easily I was skimming along the dew. I felt a bit superior.

On my way back I saw the duck on the pond, gliding effortlessly. I mentally compared that image to me swimming laps in the pool – water flying, waves everywhere, gasping like a steam engine, and moving forward at a snail’s pace for my effort.

Ok, I’ve got the grass but he’s got the water, we’re even, the duck and I. (Hopelessly competitive I am.)

Then he flew away.

Damn. Outdone by a duck.

Waterlogged in Texas

As of yesterday we have had 50 straight days of rain. We’ve got Noah beat by 10.

Consequently, I have been thinking about water lately. It’s like so many things in life – too little is bad, too much is worse. Like dessert, money, beer, credit, garlic, Irish music, and RAIN.

As I was running the other day I noticed the sound of the creek next to the trail. I love that sound. Calm and companionable. But just a few days ago that same creek was a flooding, raging river – 20 feet deep, sweeping away everything, including entire trees. Life is like that, one moment just rolling along and suddenly coming at you way, way to fast.

So anyway, after our daily thunderstorm/flash flood yesterday I thought how the weather illustrates the character of God, he is both terrifying and gentle. Lightning – terrifying; peaceful sunset afterwards – gentle.

I put together a little North Texas weather video. It looks and sounds great on my computer but not so great on the web, but since I made it I decided to post it anyway. You can see it at my Myspace page, click on "videos." http://www.myspace.com/slivermoonglobal. It's labeled "Waterlogged in Texas."