Captured by Beauty

My Year of Living Reclusively #2

I don't really have an outline prepared, nor do I have any real clear idea where I am going with this series of posts.  I was sick to death with the flu for ten days over Christmas.  I had nothing to do but lay in bed and consider my life.

I came to a sense that my life is like a spider web. It seemed to me to have some structure and elegance and purpose to it (I could possibly even catch God in it!), then this past couple years was a big hand that swept it away, tore its fabric, tangled and crumpled it and now I have to try to pull it apart and make some sense of it. But life is like spider webs: it is impossible to pull the strands apart and examine them as independent pieces because they are stuck to each other and impossibly intertwined. So this may be as frustrating to read as it is to write because there will always be a loose strand flapping in a breeze blowing in a direction that tangles up the whole mess even more. 

I got an email from someone who is kind of a "recovering Christian" and just discovered the blog a couple days ago.  I won't quote his email, but my reply (edited for the blog) is probably as good a starting place as any to talk about some of the things I've been thinking about.

"I know what you mean about the "haunting of conversion experiences". The longer I live and see people convert to stuff (religions, Argentinian cabernets, fair trade coffees, political causes, or even just to themselves) I think most of us are haunted by the need for a conversion experience so we can manufacture some false passion in our existence. Without some kind of passion to distract us we are left to only look into ourselves and our own failure as a human being. Once we see our own failure we begin to see other people as human beings who are really failures too and trying to cover it up, most of the time not too elegantly. It is so much easier to categorize, differentiate, hate, 'love' and label than it is to just 'see clearly' and not react or judge. The worst false passion is a religious one."

"You nailed it: true conversion can only be to authentic humility and I am no longer one to judge how God gets someone there whose heart He knows is pointed in that direction. You are correct, the blog and all the Orthographs are really about my realizations of my own failures but also my longing to know a 'true conversion' some day. "

 So, that is that.  A beginning.

I've lived over a year merely as a "Christian" among business co-workers and at large in the world (though I tell no one I am a Christian).  I have no "defacto honor" because I wear a gold dress or any discernable signs at my office. I earned and continue to earn respect from nothing with my co-workers and every new hire, and I am judged solely on how I act as a human being from day to day.  (Though, within the Church, I am very aware that the honor of wearing holy vestments can be seen as the garb of a hypocrite in a twinkling of a public sin).

As I mentioned before, I don't advertise my faith nor do I evangelize in my office nor in any other context.  I have lived for about 18 moths without my past immersion in Church (parish, local, national and global) politics and Orthodox (and even just Christian) apologetics.  My un-sought for conversations with co-workers and random people were filled with regular, every day people's inner pain, family problems, spiritual anxieties, despondency and wrestlings with God, themselves, man and mortality.   But "un-sought for conversations" isn't quite accurate.

I think more accurately I would say "attempted avoided conversations". That is a loose end flapping in a breeze.  I have and do avoid conversations.  I have and do avoid people and obvious "train wrecks".  I don't respond to everyone who asks something of me. Sometimes I say "no", sometimes I say nothing. Sometimes I just turn off the phone, don't check or read my email, don't listen to messages, don't click "confirm", etc.  I have no "spiritual trick" that tells me who to avoid or what to say or not to say, etc.

I've found, in general, I like not speaking, not responding, not engaging, not replying, not seeking, and not fishing in people's lives.  It is work to speak up whereas it used to be work to find a place to speak.  But it is a different kind of work, and harder.  But that is for another post later.   

My Year of Living Reclusively

About a year and a half ago my life took some turns.  Many years ago I learned that Life takes detours from our imagined path, so I have no illusions of stability, visions nor accomplishment anymore.  "Turns" and detours are part of the big picture of Life that we don't have the capability to see. We can intellectually acknowledge their existence but we have no concept of the effect they may have on our life nor where we must go when the detour sign shows up on our path.  In the past couple years I've encountered some detours.

My immortal parents became undeniably mortal.

My thirty year stable work/income that had survived three recessions was pillaged by economic forces.

My "ministry" demanded that I not minister so our Mission Church could heal and new leadership could find its voice and vision.

The "detour signs" of my life ended up pointing somewhat in the same direction. I had to finally give up on construction 18 months ago.  I got a job as a school guidance counselor.  Ironically, as soon as I got the school job, construction picked up... but not enough for a full time income.  I have worked virtually every evening after "work", every Saturday and Sunday for the past 18 months.  At the intersection of needing to be absent from our Mission and needing to pay the IRS, Bank of America, Nissan, Capital One, Home Depot, Chase Bank etc. etc. etc. for the three  years of living off their credit extensions, it has all worked out elegantly.  The Mission Church is moving forward, I've paid off the majority of our debt and I'm able to keep tabs on my parents (though the hard decisions are yet to come).

Those are only the pragmatics, however.

Some of the other things that have happened spiritually and existentially were unanticipated.  I'm still not sure if I understand it all yet.  I'm sure ten years from now I will tell a different story.  But, this is the story right now.

Over the past year because of my work schedule (and some other things I'll discuss later), I've virtually given up my "internet presence".  I haven't done a podcast, video or blogged regularly for over a year.  Even though I kind of knew it existed, I guess I really didn't have a true grasp of my status as an "Ortho-celeb" until I disappeared.  That said, I am also VERY aware that "Orthodox internet celeb status" is a VERY small pond (much smaller than the egos of most newbies to the Ortho-net realize), so I don't have to be a very big fish in the grand scheme of ponds and fish.  The reality is I've just been around for about 15 years now and pure presence and longevity in itself gathers "hits and stats".

The bottom line is, I have disappeared from most things "Orthodox" in the past year or more. But I have also disappeared from most things I have always sought for affirmation and fulfillment as a human being.  I've realized over this past year that I have not missed them.  In fact, I like the peace I've found not pursuing "personal fulfillment" either in my job or my spiritual life.

So, what has happened over the past 18 months?  I've found that I've learned to love being a recluse.  But, I am not sure whether that is a good thing or not.

That, Dear Readers, will be what I try to parse for the next undetermined number of posts here whenever I get the time to write.

Random Thoughts on the School Massacre

A compilation of my posts and comments on posts on a common social media outlet:

"In Ramah was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children, and she would not be comforted, because they were not."   Jeremiah 31:15, quoted in Matthew 2:18-20.

The slaughter of innocents goes on.... We're no better than our predecessors, just more efficient. Lord have mercy.

Even if we had a utopian weaponless society, one asshole would figure out that if he is the only one with a weapon he could rule the world.

We can't let random insanity drive our lives or public policy... if we do, the crazy people win and we are crazier than they are.

I listened to talk radio on the way home from work about the "massacre" and I wondered how Middle Eastern country talk radio deals with suicide bombers and triple or quadruple the dead and weekly or monthly occurrences instead of once or twice a decade. Our news coverage of this kind of event on our soil goes on for weeks but 80 people dead and dozens more injured in a suicide bombing overseas gets a 10 second blurb at the top of the hour for less than a day even though we all know both perpetrators were nut-cases in one way or another. #newsdrivenbyratingsandadvertisingrates

 Even if you armed every citizen and put detectors at every doorway in the world there would still be murders. We can't let rare random insanity drive our lives.

The unfortunate reality is, even if mental health care and guns were equally accessible to crazy people, there will always be a crazy person who will choose the guns. There's always more that could have been done and can be done, but evil and nutcases will always wreak havoc. Death was introduced into the world in a perfect environment and the first murder happened just east of Eden.

Strange how our individual lives go on even in the face of inconceivable evil and sorrow. I still had to unstop my kitchen sink after work today. A very small thing comparatively, but still consequential in my reality. I never know how to feel about that.

 Let's get this f*cked up world over with. Maranatha!

True Mission Work: Why There are Few True Converts

Peter France, a BBC reporter who did a weekly program on religion for 12 years, asked Abbot Amphilichios of The Monastery of St. John the Evangelist on Patmos a question in an interview (briefly paraphrased here):

"We are a modern tribe of people who reject Christianity, not because we know too little but because we know too much. We know the human mind and the conscious and unconscious and we know religious emotionalism, that it is all void of reality, we find your philosophical arguments for the existence of a God unconvincing, linguistics and archeology show your Bible is flawed, science shows no need for a Creator... so we reject your "Truth" because of our truths. What would you say to us if you were a missionary to our tribe?"

The Abbot simply smiled and said, "I would not say anything to you. I would simply live with you. And I would love you."

St. Isaac the Syrian said, "God is reality. The person whose mind has become aware of God does not even possess a tongue with which to speak, but God resides in the heart in great serenity. He experiences no stirring of zeal or argumentativeness, nor is he stirred by anger. He cannot even be aroused concerning the faith."

Perhaps it because of the lack of true love that there are so few true missionaries and few true converts to any modern "faith" (including my own).  After seeing and hearing the Bible and its commentators quoted and proof texted for over 40 years I've come to the conclusion that intellectual conversion is easy compared to being drawn to Love, and being demanded by it to a life of true love.  And those who cannot learn love truly will move on to the next syllogism of their new faith and missionize accordingly because it is, in the end, easy.

H/T Fr. Silouan

The Transcendant Ordinary.

A seasonal re-post.  I still wept. 

Why I Wept...

It comes unannounced. It has no warning signs.

You may be driving and you find yourself miles from the last remembered intersection. You realize at odd times that you have been staring through someone, the bank teller, the cashier, or your spouse sitting across the dinner table. You may be washing your hands and look up into the mirror. For a moment you see someone else, a stranger with your face. You may be holding a half-ripe tomato at the produce counter, and somehow, somewhere inside you go empty, empty as a beggar's plate. There comes a disquieting want within you. It leaves you hollow for a moment and then is gone. You make the turn, cash the check, dry your hands, and you shake off the feeling like a cat-nap and go on, distracted by a magazine cover, a familiar tune, a hastily engaged shallow conversation.

This feeling, like all inexplicable feelings, weaves itself into the fabric of your days. It may be a brief sigh, a momentary sadness, sometimes a deep weariness of the heart. It is not quite darkness. It is not truly light. It is not quite despair, it is not hope. It is not quite fear, it is not peace. It is a vague notion that you once possessed something precious and it is now missing. Or perhaps that you were once possessed by someone precious and it is you that is missing. It is a twinge of homesickness, a feeling that you belong somewhere but are not there; or that you belong to someone but have lost touch. This fleeting melancholy is easily dismissed in the frenzy of the day because it does not paralyze you or cause you to break out in uncontrollable weeping. It can be evaded by turning up the radio, finding a conversation, making the phone call or searching for the perfect tomato.

But in the night, when there are no distractions, no tasks, when there is no one but yourself and all that is in you and all that is missing within you, it is then that the feeling is no longer a vague notion but a troubling and persistent void. It is then that even if you claim to know no God you have within you an empty and hungering place that you fear to name because to name it would be to know to whom it belongs and for whom it hungers. You know with fearful certainty Someone precious is missing. You almost know for whom it is you are longing. It is a lover whose face you would know if you saw it, whose name you would recognize if only you could hear someone speak it, whose heart you know is longing for you.

In perhaps such a night the night the Shepherds, wearied from the ordinariness of thousands of days walking the same hills, lay staring, like thousands of nights before, into the vast familiar sky. And in the night comes one who is unfamiliar, whose presence is at first strange and fearful. But it is an Angel and the fear breaks into wonder.

And the stars begin to sing.

"Hallelujah!"

From somewhere in the ordinary, familiar sky breaks forth Angels, Archangels, Cherubim, Seraphim six winged, many eyed, soaring aloft on their wings singing "Hallelujah!" for into the vast ordinariness of our existence the One for whom we long has come to take a face, to have a name, to be bread to fill the hunger, to be light to shine in the darkness, to be wine that makes glad the troubled heart of man. "Hallelujah!"

There is one born who lies among the lowliest of all, unremarkable, indistinguishable from ten thousand other humans born in the same night. And yet the angels sing, Hallelujah, Glory to God in the highest!

The transcendence of the ordinary breaks forth from within the ordinary. The glimpse of eternal heaven shines forth from the mundaneness of the earth. Peace and goodwill among men is both within each and in the face of every human.

It is for this we are preparing. We prepare for the transcendent by attending more closely to the familiar and ordinary things of life, to food, to the hungering, dirty face of our neighbor that is before us every day, to our own inner longing for peace and joy. And perhaps on one ordinary day, in an ordinary place, among ordinary people there will perhaps come one who cries "Hallelujah!" and the heavens will break open and all that is ordinary around us and within us will stand up and sing in wonder and glorious unexpected joy.

I think that is why I weep when I watch this.
(For full screen video click HERE)

Dodging Bullets, Jumping on Handgrenades, Etc.

Well, it has been a while.

I've been pretty much still working 7 days a week, day job and side jobs on nights and weekends to try to make enough money to pay off the IRS. (On a side note, an "Our Life in Christ" listener sent me a very generous "thank you for what you did for me" that put a significant dent in the IRS ding. I'm still flabbergasted and grateful.)

A couple weeks ago our school district "riffed" about 1/3 of the office staff and some teachers. The Superintendent called an impromptu meeting one afternoon because the cat had gotten out of the bag and he told everyone the rumors were true and within 48 hours we would each know if we had a job or not. It really didn't bother me because I had six jobs lined up that I couldn't get to. But, I didn't get laid off. So I called the waiting clients and told them I wouldn't be able to do their jobs. There were just too many jobs and not enough hours in a week or weekends in a month for everyone. This weekend I'm finishing up a big painting project I've been working on every weekend for 8 weeks that should pay off the IRS (or get me REALLY close to it.)

After the dust settled from the layoffs I talked to the Principal of my school and told her that I knew sooner or later, with all the layoffs, that new positions would come open as things progressed. I told her that, at my age, this is not a "Career" for me, I'm way past needing a title, a new business card and a small raise to validate myself. I like what I do, I like having a finger in the pies of curriculum, technology, special education, marketing and staff development but I don't want to run any of it. So basically I'm willing to help out, be on committees and "teams" but I'm not looking for a promotion or a raise especially since I can make what they would give me in a annual salary raise in a couple weeks in the summer. It is nice to have freedom from ego and financial need. She was very understanding and grateful for the conversation.

We took "Thanksgiving" to my parents' house so we wouldn't have to go to the Casino again for Thanksgiving supper.  It was a gift this year.  Every time I visit my parents they look older and weaker.  It used to be years or months between visits, now it is weeks and the changes are obvious.
They put in one of those "staircase chair escalators" for my Mom. I've been trying to talk them into it for a year and they finally did it.  They said, "We're not moving out of this house..." I think they are facing their realities and limitations squarely now. 

So, all in all, life is going on.  When I get home from work sometimes I think, "Hm, maybe I'll record a 'Steve the Builder' podcast"... but I never do.  Maybe some day I will again.  But it's just not a "career" for me and I'm way past needing to talk or be heard these days.  But on the other hand, I still have some latent Protestant guilt for not "fulfilling my ministry" (the parable of the talents thing, you know)...  And frankly, I'm not sure if that is real or not, the jury is still out.

Oh, and the other thing that has happened, and I'll probably write about it later, is the Wifey and I are "Empty Nesters" now.  At age 60, our last one flew the coop.  It is a strange life now.  More on that later.

Thanks for checking in.  Not much Pith here, but it's late, it's been a long day/week/month/year/life.

Tour of My Cubicle

This is the eight square feet of real estate I occupy in the hallway at work.
Mr. Yellow Ninja Birthday Balloon has stayed inflated since August 9. He guards the cubicle at night.

This is the back wall, slowly getting populated with stuff. At the left is my "POGONOPHOBIA FREE ZONE". Then "Mr. R's Brain Gym", and "Semper Gumby Always Flexible".

This is "Parade of Neon Frogs" the top of the left wall. No cubicle wall is complete without "Chattering Teeth" to remind everyone it is a "BLAHBLAHBLAH Zone".

This is my reading glasses holder. I had to get a separate pair of glasses for my computer screen. I made Alfredo Carbunza in 1967 in ceramics to hold my glasses on my nightstand. He's been dropped a few times over the years and needs a nose job. Of course, a real cubicle desk always has a Big Gulp (or coffee) and snack food on it.

This is the right wall of my cubicle. My "Greeting Gumby", "Hello Hand" and "Friendly Frog" say "HI!" to visitors.

This is the right wall's posters and pictures. Monkabee Moo, The Moo King, Groucho Bunny, drawings by my students, etc.

This is my "dual screen monitor" set up I finally figured out how to do last semester. How did I live without it??? I found a Thomas Kinkade Godzilla picture that makes a dandy screen saver. Of course NO ONE can live without post-it notes and neon frogs even with two monitors.

It's still a work in progress. I might need a shelf for stuff. I thought about bringing my stuffed armadillo but it might make people think I'm weird.

Juggling Masters

Those who have been following the blog for a long time know I have a soft spot for juggling.
I learned to juggle three things in high school but never got good at it so I can appreciate a good juggler.

THIS is an old post that showcases two amazing jugglers.

I didn't know there was such a competition, but an online friend, Mary, posted this on Facebook. THIS is amazing!  Contact juggling at a new level.

And if you liked the "contact juggling" video, THIS guy is amazing.

Take a break from juggling your life and just enjoy!

Does God Have a Wonderful Plan for Your Life?

Last month I posted an Old Man's rumination about "the will of God for my life" (HERE)

John (late twenties) asked in the comment box: "...my question then is, how does the Orthodox Christian then decide what to do when a decision regarding a life path does come up? Simply pray for God's blessing and then make the choice as best as I can, without having to see the "hand of God" in it?"

There are so many aspects to this question that need fleshing out, but let me see if I can hit some high points, tell some stories and then distill some principles that make sense to me here and now.

1. "Life path". Although I don't think John meant it exactly in the way I'm going to talk about it,  I will address it in several ways.

Our "life path" is rarely divinely revealed.  Even St. Paul revised his "divinely ordained life's purpose" after his encounter on the road on his way to kill Christians. My "life path" from age 6 was to be a priest. I interpreted twists and turns and opportunities and conversations and coincidences through that lens for almost 50 years. I finally was able to admit to myself I was self-deluded.  

A "life path" often carries the baggage of defining my life by what I do, or constraining it in some significant way that means I fore go something that could have been"better" in some significant way. The issue is the self-definition of "significance".  I often think of the Prophets who spend decades of their lives herding sheep, picking figs or loving whores before any thought of "significance" entered their radar, and then only because of incontrovertible proof of Divine intervention in their lives.  We get it backwards... we ASSUME divine intervention and significance then look for something to fill in the blank.

I spent 30+ years of my life doing construction, not by my choice, though I still believe it was the providence of God that put me in the place to go there, but ultimately I "chose it" because I, at the time, was constrained by circumstances and need. Over the years I managed to turn it into and frame it for myself as a "street ministry" of sorts and thereby spiritualize it so it wasn't a complete affront to my self-discerned "will of God for my life". Sure, there was some ego involved. Sure, there was some true virtue involved. Sure, I did some good. Sure, it led me down some dark alleyways.

I look back on it now and wonder if I would have done better by making it a "real business" and making money to donate to legitimate charities and organizations who actually did better at helping people than I did.  But I didn't... I did what I did in my mix of ego, idealism and desire to be a Christian.

I recently got a "real job" and work in a "real office environment" with real people.  I found that I can be a Christian there too. 

Here's how I see "Life path" and decisions now:

A. Don't "spiritualize" your life path unless you are contemplating becoming a pimp or paid assassin.  The old AA/Country Music line "No matter where you go, there you are..." is true. You won't be a better or worse Christian in any environment.  If your work environment dictates your spiritual life, you don't have a stable spiritual life and you need to work on that, not your resume.

B.  Provide for your family. Take a good paying job.  There is no virtue in poverty.  But, neither is there virtue in riches.  No matter how much I've made (below poverty level and "rich" by many definitions) I was always "just getting by".  Virtue is in learning to live simply, guilt-free and generously.  Give away more than is comfortable no matter how much you make.

C. Don't confuse "career" with "spiritual life" (see #1).  If you love computer programming and are good at it and can make 185.00/hr., don't be fooled into thinking you're a better person by becoming a cashier at a Goodwill Thrift Store for minimum wage because you are "sacrificing".

2. "The Hand of God".  Honestly, I still vacillate about this one.  As I mentioned in the GPS post, I firmly believe the providence of God has been a part of my life from day one. It is MY INTERPRETATION of when, how and the results of that providence that is the problem.  We can see "success" as blessings and "failure" as sin or delusion, but they could very well be the opposite.

It is easy to see good times as "blessings".  And they just might be... or they could just be market forces and good financial planning that even Judas could pull off blindfolded without an abacus. There's whole heresies and denominations built around that notion.  There is another side of that coin that is equally potentially delusional:  I had a friend who used to say, "How come every time God works in a mysterious way, I get kicked in the ass?"  Sometimes God's servants get crucified, and it is His will. The trick is to not develop a "martyr complex" and see the hand of God in bad times when it is really a consequence of you being a total idiot.

I can't tell you how many times I've seen "the hand of God" in something in the short run and now 20, 30, 40, 50 years removed from it have re-interpreted the providence and outcomes.  The fact of the matter is, providence is cumulative and consequences flow down for decades not just weeks or months.  We have no clue what is being "set up" or how things will work out in the long run.  I am VERY wary of interpreting recent events as "the hand of God" or seeing blessings or outcomes in them.  I really don't know what is really a blessing or merely an event within the fallen order that God will have to re-define, work within, do some magic or merely let it play out to its logical end and hopefully I will learn a lesson from it.

That said, I think we just need to make the best decisions we can with what we have and where we are spiritually (whether it is delusional or truly spiritual because in some ways in the end they are both pointed toward God in a round about way).  

3. "Simply pray."  Yes. If you can.  Usually when I prayed about something I was looking for an outcome and saw circumstances and events as "the hand of God at work" that supported that outcome.  To truly pray "Thy will be done" without an ego agenda behind it is harder than it looks.

In the end, no matter where you end up it can be for the glory of God and your spiritual growth.  I don't know how to say "don't obsess about things" when it is our tendency to do so because we've upped the ante of consequentiality because we've spiritualized everything in our lives.  If we could just see the present moment as the "spiritual event" we've been given and not concern ourselves with big pictures and end games and outcomes that are prognostications, illusions and hopes and dreams I think we would find a lot more peace even in the "big decisions" of life.

Anyway, that's my two cents for today.  I don't know if it would have made any difference to me at 30 if someone had told me this stuff then, but, here it is.  Caveat emptor.  :)

Bacon Brown Sugar Squash

I'm not turning the blog into a full fledged "Food Blog", but I loved to cook long before the "Food Channel". My Mom is Chinese and my Dad is Arkansan so it made for an interesting cuisine in our house. My Mom is an intuitive cook, I don't recall anything bad she ever made, including Arkansan food. I learned to cook intuitively from her and rarely measure anything so I usually have to guess at portions when giving a recipe.

My Mom and I lived with my paternal grandparents for a summer while my Dad did sea duty. She learned to cook Arkansan and showed my Grandmother some tricks herself. I recall my Grandmother getting up at 4:30 to start breakfast. Home made biscuits, pork chops, bacon, eggs, pan fried potatoes, white toast made from Rainbow Bread and home made plum and pear preserves. There was always a quart mason jar of bacon grease on the back of the stove that got used to prepare various dishes for breakfast, lunch and dinner and was replenished each morning. The other staple was a can of Crisco in the cupboard. I don't recall ever seeing a bottle of "oil". My Grandparents both lived well past 80 and probably never touched an ounce of olive or canola oil in their life.

One of my favorite childhood dishes was, and still is, bacon brown sugar yellow squash.

This has converted vegans to bacon drippings and "EWWWWW SQUASH!" kids to vegetables.
It is the perfect blend of vegetable and animal.

So here you go:

4-6 medium yellow crook-neck squash sliced into half-inch discs.
Boil the squash for about 3-4 minutes or until just barely getting tender.
Drain in a collander and let as much water drain out as possible.

Prepare a skillet (I ALWAYS use cast iron to cook). Get it hot (high heat) so a drop of water dances in it. Throw about a tablespoon of bacon grease into the pan (if liquid, if you keep in the refrigerator a slightly mounded teaspoon will do).

Pour the squash into the frying pan and spread it out. Let it fry for a while then flip it over with a spatula. Keep the heat high.

Add some sea salt (a couple sprinkles), about 2 good tablespoons of brown sugar, a teaspoon of coarse ground black pepper and a heaping tablespoon of butter. Stir it up. Keep cooking on high heat.

There will usually be a lot of liquid from the squash. A lot of it will evaporate while cooking. Once the squash is done (soft but not total mush, even though it is still good as squash mush), you can remove the squash and reduce the liquid on high heat (boiling and stirring) until it is syrupy then add the squash back in. You can leave the squash in the pan and just let the liquid boil off but the squash gets cooked more and mushier. Either way, you don't want to pour off the liquid, it has all your flavor in it.

If I leave one "food legacy" to the world, I think this would be the one I'd opt for.
Enjoy!

Pork Tenderloin and Sweet Potatoes

I've always been into "one pan meals", short prep time, and tasty (OK, two pans if the dish requires mashed potatoes, rice or a side veggie). If I can do the veggie and meat in one dish, so much the better.

I found small pork tenderloins on sale, perfect size for dinner for two and maybe one "leftover" lunch or snack... (now that we're empty nest, I have to learn to cook smaller). I usually do a barbeque kind of thing with pork so I wanted to try something different.

So, here is the concoction:

Split the pork tenderloin down the middle (not all the way through), lay it open. Fill it with scallions, olive oil, sprinkle with sea salt and sage and then lay a couple sprigs of fresh rosemary down the center. (We have rosemary growing in our front yard).

Peel and slice a couple of small sweet potatoes and arrange it along the tenderloin in a baking dish.

Drizzle the entire arrangement with balsamic vinegar. Then sprinkle some brown sugar on the sweet potatoes. Then drizzle some maple syrup over everything (including the pork).

Cover with foil and bake for about an hour at 325. (Check the meat, depending on the size it may cook quick). The potatoes will come out firm but cooked. I didn't want mushy "baked sweet potatoes" so if you want the potatoes softer I'd say you might have to boil them for a few minutes before putting them in the baking pan.

The other option (that I prefer, but it takes another pan that you'll have to wash)...
Remove the roast and set it aside to let it rest before you cut it up. Pour off the liquid into a frying pan and reduce the liquid (boil it over high heat, stirring regularly, until it becomes like syrup). While you are reducing the liquid, re-cover and return the potatoes to the oven to bake a little longer.

Drizzle the reduction over the roast and potatoes. Reduced meat liquids are like nectar.

I paired it up with a $2.99 Walmart Argentinian Malbec called "Lucky Duck". Not bad.

Two tongues up. Tasty!

My Mom's Fried Rice

Of course no one makes it like Mom, but here's what I do after watching her for years growing up.

First a lesson on how to cook rice.

1. Wash the rice. Three times. Add water to cover the rice, swish it around with your hand then pour the water off, repeat. Repeat.

2. Add water to the rice. How much? Put your index finger in the pot and barely touch the top of the rice. Add water up to your first joint. Really.

3. Add a little salt, bring to a boil, stir occasionally. Turn the heat down to the lowest setting and cover and let it sit for about ten minutes. Stir then turn off the heat, cover and let it sit for another 30 while you make the rest of supper.

OK, now you have perfect rice and there is almost always leftover rice.

The next morning, fried rice for breakfast!

You will need:

A little oil (any kind, sesame adds some flavor).
Chopped veggies. Green onions, carrot (finely sliced or shaved), onion, a little garlic, celery, bell pepper, be creative.
Chopped meats: Spam is the best! I've used leftover pork chops, roast beef, fish, shrimp, hot dogs... thin slice or fine cube the meat.
Eggs. 2 or 3 scrambled up with a little milk and garlic salt in a bowl.
Soy sauce.

Put the oil in the pan, add the meat and veggies and saute for a couple minutes (keep the veggies a little crispy at this stage, they'll cook more).

Add the eggs. Scramble until they just start cooking but are still a little soft and runny.

Add the rice and stir it all up. Douse with soy sauce and stir fry until the eggs are all done.

Eat and sigh.

Pineapple Ginger Chicken

I made this up when I needed a quick meal. 5-10 minutes of prep. It is amazing!

4-6 Chicken thighs (depending on family size).
1 can crushed pineapple (in regular juice, not heavy syrup).
1 bottle Korean sweet chili sauce (or hoisin... any oriental sauce will work).
3 tablespoons of chopped fresh ginger.

Mix the ginger into the pineapple. Lay the chicken thighs on top of it. Pour some chili sauce on top. Bake at 350 for about an hour uncovered. Serve over rice (that you cook while the chicken is baking).

No GPS for "Life"

I've come to the conclusion that most of life is managed by "muddling through".

I've made plans, gone to school to prepare, predicted the future based on data, prayed about it, felt the "Spirit" move, saw the "hand of God" in events and coincidences, made educated guesses, worked my ass off for a goal or a dream and rolled with the punches.  In the end, I can't say that any of it really mattered in the end.  But, the reality is I hadn't done any of that I wouldn't be where I am (for better or worse). 

The "will of God for my life" and the "providence of God" are mostly either delusions that I've poured my efforts into or amounts to spiritualized retrospectively revisionist history.  But that said, I still believe I am where I am by some kind of grace of God that accommodates my virtues and sins (regardless of my awareness of the difference) even as I write this sentence.  The fact of my faith (however small or great in anyone's estimation, including my own) is evidence of that grace.

I think most things in life are motivated by some tinge of virtue and compromised by some tinge of sin.  But, yes, sometimes sin becomes the motive and virtue is vestigial.  I'm not a "new age" Romanticist, I've looked long and hard into my mirror too many mornings to think I've always been evolving in a spiritual journey upwards.

At sixty I'm finding that I don't have any more clue about what I'm doing or where I'm headed than when I was six or sixteen.  In fact I think I had more of a clue back then, or at least thought I did. Of course the realization of that in itself gives me pause to pronounce that "where I am now" is all that good of a place either. 

For good or bad, the difference between six, sixteen and sixty is I have more history now.  The other difference is, because of history, I find that I don't NEED to have a clue now, nor do I really want to have a clue.  I'm perfectly OK with letting life play out and just being in the present moment. Uncertainty, unknowability, unpreparedness... they aren't tigers and dragons lurking under my bed ready to eat my arm dangling from the bedside.  I sleep comfortably with them.

So, for today I do what the day demands (to some degree of competency and with some degree of passion and commitment) and I go to bed tired.  I don't get too concerned about "big pictures" of things, predicting the future, spiritualizing the past, aggrandizing the present.  The only important thing to me is the word I speak to the person I'm talking to, the kindness I show to the person I encounter, the peace I bring into a room of people, the fulfillment of my duty to the person who pays for my time and talent so I can eat. Yes, even that is "spiritual".

I may not have "it" down, whatever "it" is.  I just know I'm not as concerned with making a difference as much as I am with just making it through the present moment with some kind of integrity and a sense of what is really before me rather than what is ahead of me.

The Icon of My Life

Biopsies, Roasts and Weddings

Sixty is how old your grandparents are when you are a child.

Sixty is how old your parents are when you are "finding yourself" and perhaps in the middle of your first permutation of real job/career/marriage/children and you don't have much time for them.

Sixty is when you start talking about colonoscopies, noticing spots on your skin you think look "iffy", and your doctor wants to do biopsies and take enough blood work to have an open bar at a vampire wedding.  My life insurance rate is more than my first house payments... all these are flashing warning lights that the road not too far ahead is indeed closed. 

At sixty I also know beyond a doubt I'm leaving a legacy, a lot of which is carved in stone by an amateur.  I see a bigger picture than I could at thirty or forty. I kind of knew a big picture existed when I was twenty, but when you've only lived less than 20% of your life conciously you don't really know what "big" even looks like.  So now I see the wrong colors chosen, the errant brush strokes, the unbalanced composition of everything I've done and everyone I've touched. So now, if nothing else, I will spend my days trying to re-shape and erase and incorporate all the indelible strokes of my past with the goal of leaving something somewhat beautiful in the end.

Sixty is how old you are when you bless your kids as they pursue their own lives, even if it means getting less of them than you'd like.  That is not a bad thing.... Sixty year old doting, guilting, controlling parents is an ugly thing.  The helicopter has to run out of gas at some point, and looking back on six kids, the sooner the better.

The Wifey had a "Roast" of me for my 60th birthday.  I wish I could post the speeches, but I guess I'll just say that if I died today, I would die a happy man that everyone knew me so well that they could point up my faults and goofiness so clearly, and yet in spite of knowing me so well, still showed up and brought me gifts and honored me by being there to mark the event with me.  I am a blessed man, even if the Synod of Orthodox Bishops decreed that my birthday never be commemorated in any Orthodox Church henceforth and forevermore.   (It was a joke... kinda.)

And now I am in Montana for a week.  I can "telecommute" in my job. So I came up for my sister's wedding.  She asked if I would say some things at the wedding. Considering a "prophet is without honor in his own country" I considered that one of the biggest blessings of my life.

I gave the "wedding sermon" and basically talked about why be "married" after being "engaged" for eight years. I talked about being created in the image of the Trinity, "being as communion", and what it means to live eucharistically "in love" rather than just "sharing stuff legally because the State gives you a piece of paper".  I talked about wheat and wine and how they are transformed sacramentally by grinding, crushing and work... much like human beings in marriage. The highlight of the evening for me was when, after 80 people consumed over fifty pounds of bratwursts and burgers, 60 bottles of wine, two kegs of beer and sundry other adult beverages, my sister and brother in law's HARDCORE atheist friend who had downed more than a few and had been in a heated discussion with a couple of evangelical wedding guests earlier in the afternoon, sat down at the table next to me. He kind of tipped/leaned toward me, opened his mouth and pointed before he made any words (like drunk people do) and said, "I gotta say... I don't believe ANY of that Christian shit you were talking about,... but you sure made sense, that was really beautiful what you said. I'm gonna have to think about all that s'more. Thank you."

It was a perfect day in their back yard.

May God grant Todd and Lani many more years.

60

It seems the older I get, the less I feel compelled to say. 

Follow Your Dream...

Platitudes don't always work out in real life....

The Ten Month Marathon Begins...

I'm back to "work"... well, my job that pays a regular paycheck with benefits. 

Annual checkup.  I hate it when the doctor plays Queen when he's doing my prostate exam.

Two biopsies that got infected.

Admin at work decides to migrate email servers and reconfigure and update all of our computers the week before school starts... one of the most email/website/software intense times of the year.  #yeahiknowfirstworldproblem

Finishing construction projects the day before school starts. 

Dead battery.  My third "Die Hard" that died under warranty.  Free replacements. Yay.

Discovered I'm allergic to neosporin/triple antibiotic... after 3 visits to the doctor, which would also account for four other "infections" I've gotten and spent over 2000.00 to cure in the past 15 years.

The joints of my fingers actually hurt from cutting and pasting Excel spreadsheet data my first day back on the job.  I guess that beats a back injury from cutting and lifting sheetrock.

Sushi with Daughter #1 for the first time in ages.  I don't know where she got "workaholic" from.... Hm.

Biopsies were negative.  Still not sure how I really feel about that.

Cholesterol is up to 285. I'm supposed to eat oatmeal instead of Sausage McMuffins for breakfast and fish instead of pulled pork from now on. Um... yeah....

A busy last couple weeks.  

Long day tomorrow.  Again.

Good night.