Jibstay

Friday, March 30, 2007

Truths at 30,000 feet

Flying is a delightful experience for me. I anticipate getting into the coccoon with my ipod, books, magazines, journals, Bible and thoughts. I love flying out of junky weather into the clear blue skies and sunshine. I like flying at night and seeing communities conect to coomunities by ribbons of headlights. I like flying in the early morning darkness into the rising sun. I like flying around huge thunder clouds. I am awed by the variety of landscape of both our country and the places in the world over which I've been allowed to fly.
Today I am en route from Minneapolis to Santa Barbara through Dallas Texas. We took off in rainy weather and junk. We climbed and climbed and climbed, all grey clouds, getting brighter but not clearer. When we reached our cruising altitude, w were sandwhiched between clouds beneath us and clouds high, high above us. There was no easy access to sun today. It is there, to be sure, but at an altitude our plane was not going to fly.
I pondered about seeking the sun. Sometimes the sun comes easily to us, like is often the case in Santa Barbara. We have an incredible number of sunny days each year. We expect sun and lots of it. In fact, we can get upset when we miss the sun for more than a day. Other places like Minneapolis, brace themselves for long, grey seasons of monochromatic colors and distinct and sometimes brutal seasons. But the sunshine comes to Minneapolis eventually, often accompanied by -10 degrees temeratures or +100 degrees heat and humidity. And sometimes it is glorious,
But the remaining truth everywhere on the globe is that the sun is there during the day, if you get high enough. Sometimes we just do not climb or fly high enough to get into the sun. We so expect the sun to come to us, we melt-down during bad-weather seasons. The same is true for our spiritual life and God. Sometimes I just expect God to show up and shine his love all over me. Growing up in a Christian home with loving parents, I have had an unusual nuber of sunny days in my life. So when the rain comes and the seasons are brutal, it's not about the sun vanishing, it's more about me learning how to fly higher (in some traditions of mysticism they aim interiorly and deeply).
I just called home to Santa Barbar, a different time zone from here in Dallas. It is cool, bright and sunny. "Hurry Home" Martha said.

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