colorblind

colorblind
Originally uploaded by rod lewis

I got up very early this morning. The sky was grey as dark faded. Thick clouds blocked the sun as I made coffee and cleaned the kitchen.
My emotions bounced back and forth as I listened to lighthearted, happy music of Sufjan Stephens, and contemplated the depth of seriousness, despair, and hope in the lyrics.
Some days you need the day to define you, other days you need the day to express you.
The day was expressing me quite well, I needed to be defined, from outside myself.

As I sat at the kitchen table writing from my contemplative heart, I noticed a rainbow on my hand when I put it up to lean my chin on it. There’s a prism hanging in our window, and break in a cloud directed a beam through it to my face.
It is quite clear that I have no beauty of my own. Everything that I have to smile about comes from without and changes me within.
I will be patient sitting in shades of grey under heavy skies waiting for a beam of refracted light to cast color and beauty on my weathered grey face.


Shine a light through the clouds.
Separate the wavelengths.
Cast colors on my monochrome soul.

beams

beams
Originally uploaded by rod lewis

cracks will be found by
even the first morning rays
when darkness decays

surface illusion

surface illusion
Originally uploaded by rod lewis

Sometimes depth and height can be perceived in a single glance in one direction from those of us wallowing on the horizontal axis of averages and mediocrity. But going deeper and reaching higher is not as easy as realizing how short and shallow I am - though realizing is certainly a necessary first step.
Just as clothing can prove an encumbrance when plunging into deep waters, one must lay himself bare to fathom the depths of love, dependence and vulnerability required to reach the heights of joy available to us.
But it is so much safer and easier to stay covered and encumbered, and look at height reflected on the mere surface of the deep than it is to plunge in or rise up.

press on

press on
Originally uploaded by rod lewis

Yes, I go to as many of Jack's track meets as I can, but honestly, this is what excites me more. I’m excited by the behind-the-scenes process by which one achieves.
What you can’t see here is that there are no other teammates on the track. Coach Moore is standing at the finish line with a watch and Jack is practicing the last 200m of his half-mile. This is the point when every muscle screams from depletion, lungs can’t get enough oxygen, and every fiber begs you to quit. But we push through the threshold of pain.
Some see vanity in athletics, but I see discipline. One learns the art of denying his body pleasure that is harmful, embracing discomfort that makes him stronger.

It is fun to compete against dozens of other runners, to place well in an event, but at the end of the day, what goes home with you is your time, and it is measured against your own previous times, not against someone else’s. The competition with others fades, win or lose, but we press on for an enduring prize.

Indeed, we are our most formidable foe. Perhaps we can’t be beat, but we try.

Also, what you can’t see here is that Jack is using a rabbit – a little guy, several years younger who paces him in his last 100 meters. Watching these two interact is a joy. I’m watching a metaphor for life’s marathon. Jack struggles toward the coach at the finish while trying to stay just ahead of the younger guy coming behind, looking to him for instruction and guidance. The little guy can pace him, but he has to be shown what to do, where to go.
Jack, you can do a lot in a lifetime if you don’t burn out too fast. You can make the most of the distance, but first you need endurance – first you’ve got to last.

context and appearances

context and appearances
Originally uploaded by rod lewis

When I commented about how nice the silver looked against the log walls, Michelle responded with how tarnished the silver was. She quickly added though, that it doesn’t look nice right after it’s polished because it is so out of place in its rustic environment.
Oh, ain’t that the truth? Perhaps it’s thought that silver is silver and silver should shine. It matters not what its context may be. But nothing exists apart from its environment. There is context in which perfectly shiny silver is not beautiful, where it looks pretentious attempting to upstage its surroundings.
I feel I’ve spent much of my life as an everyday, weathered piece of tarnished silver comfortably fitting in with my natural environment. There are plenty of perfectly polished teapots and serving dishes attempting to mingle among us, but sticking out and remaining suspect in my rough-hewn world.
The irony is that the perfectly polished pieces have ceaselessly tried to put me under the cloth – to soak me in salt and baking soda to make me shine like they do and become suspect and inauthentic in my world.
Polishing the outside does nothing for the quality. The tarnish does absolutely nothing to the quality of the silver. The tarnish merely accumulates on the surface and what lies underneath is as pure as ever. Conversely, polishing up copper does not make it silver. On the outside, it may look perfect, but inside it’s still just a common metal.

every today has a sunset

every today has a sunset
Originally uploaded by rod lewis

Every today has a sunset
and every tomorrow a sunrise.