1-1-2007

It’s the first day of 2007. Can you believe that? It reminds me of a saying – “TIME FLIES WHEN YOU’RE HAVING FUN.” And that reminds me of what one frog said to another – “TIME’S FUN WHEN YOU’RE HAVING FLIES.”

I guess this can be true either way, depending on your perspective.

Enclosed are a couple of essays – “The Next Step” and “Falling Down and Getting Up.” The “Falling Down” one is a winner in a prison essay writing contest and I was awarded a deluxe dictionary for it. Since I now have access to all of these words, I think I should warn you. I may try to lay some of these fancy words on you. However, I certainly don’t want to overload you with platitudinous ponderosity, pompous prolixity, or polysyllabic profundity. No siree! I would never do that.

I asked Ralphie (Tom’s cartoon dog) if he would say something that would brighten our pathway in 2007, and he made up this sign:

IF YOU HAVEN’T LEARNED TO LAUGH AT YOURSELF, YOU’VE MSSED THE BIGGEST JOKE OF ALL

He tells me that teachers are everywhere and here are some things that a dog can teach us:

1.     Never pass up an opportunity to go for a joyride.

2.     Take naps.

3.     Stretch before arising

4.     If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.

5.     Eat with gusto and enthusiasm. Stop when you have had enough.

6.     When you’re happy, dance around and wag your entire body.

7.     When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle.

We can learn from these furry kids, can’t we? In your last letter, you wrote, “The writing isn’t a mused lately.” I can certainly relate to that. Let’s take the last of Ralphie’s points and sit closely and quietly and nuzzle with our thoughts and feelings.

It seems that the driving force of the sacred wisdom you and I write about is this: The only things worth saying are those things that are unsayable.

It’s quite humbling to realize that we spend a lifetime gaining grain after grain of this wisdom, working to understand it and struggling to express it and share it, only to become more and more a part of it, unspeakable ourselves. Over time, we age into stillness.

Perhaps this is the most poignant of paradoxes, nature’s safeguard against letting too much of the mystery exit. We take years of living to squeeze a few precious words from all that will not speak, and steadily, being shaped by our suffering and polished by our joy, knowing more and saying less. Ironically, after a lifetime, we may finally have important things to say, just as we feel our muse isn’t a mused and the words don’t seem to want to come out. Yet this doesn’t diminish all we try to say. For the fact that sound always ends in silence doesn’t make music any less precious to our souls.

Everything living is recreated in the mysterious moment of rest that blankets us all. In a moment of realness, the clouds in our mind clear and our passion is restored, our walls crumble, our muse is again amused. It all continues and refreshes, if we let it. It all renews so subtly.

Wishing you a joyous, magical New Year!