Deep Ruminations

I envisioned this blog as being actively filled with reflections on life here in Ireland.  Somewhere along the way of our transition to life here, I lost the thread.  I've been so intent on being active and engaged with this place that I love.  I haven't felt like reflecting, only doing, seeing, experiencing.  But as autumn has deepened, the pace has slowed, it gets dark early and the weather leaves many days for nothing but thinking and maybe writing.

Maureen and I have had this ongoing conversation almost every day since the first week.  We love it here.  It's beautiful.  The people are lovely and we feel comfortable in this culture.  And so we endlessly discuss our future and our options.  Could we move here?  Do we want to go back?  What do we most miss?  What are the pros and cons?  Could we divide our lives?  We go back and forth.

The big issue, of course, is all of the people that we love.  There' my wonderful daughter and Maureen's extraordinary son,  our beautiful passel of grandkids that we love so deeply, our many dear, dear friends that we could never live without, even the lovely home that we've made out of the old parsonage in Gorham.  Neither of us could ultimately walk away from the people that make us so fortunate and so blessed.  Every conversation and every weighing of our options seems to come down to that simple fact.

Of course, in the background of our thinking is always the even bigger questions that are harder to articulate and have no real connection to the where of our lives, but they lurk in the background of every discussion.  What do we really want to do with the rest of our days?  Is it really time to just relax and enjoy the slow flow of rather self-indulgent weeks or is there another act to our lives-- some further purpose to work toward or to strive for?  Can this time of life really be just a slow winding down toward the inevitable end?  Can we simply be content to enjoy ourselves on one long last, for us, permanent vacation?  Does life still have meaning without some clear purpose or direction?  Or can enjoying it to the full be its purpose?  The whole issue of where we live is just really a distraction from that deeper question.  Are we mostly finished with the work, the struggle, the need to achieve something, to fight for something; or is there something more that we need to do, not just for us but for something deeper and bigger?  

While I have been hiking, climbing mountains and exploring, Maureen has blossomed in a whole new direction that has been surprising.  She signed up for a poetry workshop in Galway with a terrific poet and wonderful man, named Kevin Higgins.  While she has long dabbled at poetry (often writing startlingly beautiful things), she has never had much confidence or motivation.  Kevin has managed to set her on fire.  She's written extraordinary things and was asked to read her work at a reading at the Galway public library (sharing the podium with amazing published poets from several countries).  She's been an inspiration.  She's used our time here to work and explore this new direction even in her older age.  I think she may have found a whole new vocation at age seventy.  I'm jealous.

But of course, this week has changed every conversation.  It's been almost a week since the election.  We've thought of little else.  Obviously, like everyone, we were shocked and, like most people that we know (and everyone here) horrified.  I won't go into my analysis of why this travesty took place or even what it signifies, but it was a life changing moment that deepens and complicates all of our questions.

I've spent my life as a minister, preacher and writer, working toward only one thing; trying to inspire a little more love, graciousness and compassion in my little world.  I never cared much about the institution of the church or getting people to believe stuff that they were supposed to believe.  Instead, I just want to inspire deeper and richer and more loving lives.  And now, we come to a moment where love, graciousness and compassion have been eclipsed by forces of ugliness, cruelty, bigotry, and hatred.  Whatever else we believe about this election, it is hard to escape the conclusion that love and inclusion were the losers.  Whatever impact I might have imagined that my life's work had achieved founders in the overwhelming tides that have come upon us.

And so our dilemma deepens.  It would feel so much better to sit out the remainder of our days in a neutral country where we don't feel the raw and ugly polarization that is the current American disease.  People are kinder to one another here and they are kinder even to the immigrants who are actually more plentiful here.  It would be easy to pretend right now that we are not really Americans and simply embrace this lovely and quirky little island and make a new home.

But somehow, that just feels too easy, even for a couple of old retirees.  I can't imagine that my presence in America would make any significant difference.  I no longer have a pulpit or some captive audience to work with.  I have no role to play that gives me a voice or any real influence on anyone.  But shouldn't we try nonetheless?  Shouldn't we just be there even if it is to just hold the hand of one Latino, or Muslim, or gay or lesbian friend?  Shouldn't we find some way to continue to inspire hope and love and light in this dark time?  Shouldn't we at least help our little grand children to grow up with a little more love or spirit in their lives?  Shouldn't we, at least, throw a big Christmas party once a year and remind everyone we know that love abounds?

Well, feel free to comment on our struggles and deep thoughts, and I'll try to get back to enjoying Ireland, in this moment, at least.  Love to all who read this.