Inspirational crap--literally

For the past couple months I've been following the story of Mr. Tim Dunden, aka Zeke the Sheik, aka Talker. Mr. Dunden began a compost pile in the early 1970's not too far down the road from where I live. Thirty plus years later the pile got to be 40 feet high and 200 feet long. The community got involved donating yard waste and produce remains. The property where the compost pile is located is not on Mr. Dunden's property, but right next door. The property, owned by a cemetery, is being sold and in spite of Dunden's drawn out protest the compost has to go.

David and I went to witness the mammoth mound of fertile earth on Sunday. I never thought such a sight could bring out such emotion in either one of us.

It was a life's work. It was nature doing what she does best. It was the earth living, dying, being reborn. It was beautiful. It was....God. Not to sound all Thoreau, but it was amazing.

The bull dozers have begun deconstructing the mound, a wonderfully ironic way to kick off earth day.

As we stood in the middle of the luscious, rich, earth I commented to David how I didn't understand why there was so much pollution, so many landfills, children living in garbage dumps world wide when what I beheld was a realistic partial solution to all the shit (literally) in the world.

Read more here.

The sun is finally shining again in southern california (although today hinted at rain). It is Friday and that is good. I'm feeling rather inefficient at work lately (which is better than feeling that way towards life which had been the case these past several months). I've decided to quit, still unbeknownst to supervisor in order to spend more time with my step son. I'm probably more excited about that decision than he is. I anticipate a slight initial battle when he discovers he won't be spending endless summer days unsupervised at the junk food video game mecca known as Grandpa's house. At six he already asks me why I ask him so many questions about his life. "Because I'm interested in you!" I tell him. This scares me as I envision what he might be like at 12, 16, 18 years old. Hence, the decision to hang out with him more and be present in his life.

Why I hate the IRS

because once again, for the fourth year, I owe them money. no matter how i try to make sure this won't happen it always does. off i go to sign a check that will inevitably go to support a war i don't agree with. blasted april 15th.

I am not a fan of quotes

I tend to skip over them in books or other written media, but I read this and felt moved... I have read about Monsenor Oscar Romero of El Salvador and to say I deeply admire him doesn't begin to convey the affection I have for the assassinated archbishop of El Salvador gone before I was even conceived. During my stay in San Salvador I would occasionally visit his humble tomb in the basement of the central cathedral in the capital surrounded by children's drawings and a few wandering people. I would sit in the musty silence as I processed my thoughts--mainly it was a quiet escape from a mind over-stimulated by a foreign culture and a different way of doing life. What I admire about Romero is that he wasn't afraid of conversion, constant conversion. I think I innately think that there is an apex to life with Jesus and everything is downhill from that point on. I know this is warped theology, one which I am constantly fighting. I am afraid to admit doubt and defeat and am too proud to embrace change when I finally find the path of Truth.

25 years later and El Salvador is in no better economic state, mainly thanks to globalization and U.S. trade agreements, but that is another subject for another time. There is still a strong left and an even stronger intimidating right in el Salvador. The church is divided there as it is here. Romero stood for peace, but also fought for dignity of the poor and oppressed. He denounced the bloodshed and demanded both sides stop fighting. This is the voice the people of El Salvador continue to remember.

Brazilian Bishop Pedro Casaldáliga wrote in his Open Letter to Romero:

You call us to a commitment, like Jesus of Nazareth did, that historic Jesus who so many times is reduced to helenistic dogma and sentimental spiritualism. That Jesus the Poor, in solidarity with the poor, the Crucified one with all the crucified peoples of History. You were right, and we also want to celebrate this, with Easter joy. You have been reborn in your people, who will no longer be submissive to the empire and the oligarchies. Nor will they allow themselves to be swayed by repentant former revolutionaries or by overly-spiritualized church leaders. You are reborn in the People—we are millions of dreamers, both women and men, who believe that another world is possible and that another Church is possible. Because the way things are now, brother Romero, neither the other world nor the other Church is yet in view. Wars continue, now even preemptive wars; hunger continues, strikes, violence –either by the state or a mob; sham democracies, false progress, false gods that dominate through money and the media, with weapons and politics. And a large part of the church remains silent. We have moved from the doctrine of National Security to that of transnational capital and we've gone from military dictatorships to the macro dictatorship of the neoliberal empire. Read the entire letter here.

In a world where I all too often get quite agitated with the Right as well as the Left, remembering Romero reminds me to focus on my commitment to Jesus first and foremost.