Webs We Weave

Walking along Ketchikan's historic Creek Street, I was paying attention to the many bright colors of the houses and shops around the creek as well as the salmon swimming upstream in their final journey of life.  I was reflecting on this sunny and warm day -- how nice it was to be outside following the torrential downpour the day before in Sitka; how different life is from day to day and moment to moment!

In many ways it's what catches our attention that seems so important:  the sun and warmth; the rain and cold wind; the joy and consolation of family and friends; the frustration and uncertainty when we don't know what to do.

What catches your attention?
(Photo: Creek Street, Ketchikan, Alaska,
Larry Gardepie)

At several points along this reflective walk, I would turn a corner and almost walk into a spider web situated in our path -- gigantic and beautiful constructions with the spiders still busy in their weaving.  My thoughts shifted back home to the health of our hedge, our neighbor's backyard construction project with its noise and disruptions, and work and goals unfinished.  I am so busy weaving meaning and stories that I don't always see the larger scene before me:  Life is Good!

When do you feel trapped or entrapped?
(Photo:  spider web, Creek Street, Larry Gardepie)

I wonder how often I:

• Feel trapped by a situation?
• Assume ill intentions of the other person?
• Entrap myself and others in the webs of exclusion, intolerance, and disinformation?

It seems that sometimes I am so ready to ensnare the other person that I cannot escape my own webs that I weave!

Which web catches you?
(Photo: one of the many webs in the trees along
Creek Street, Larry Gardepie)

I walked around the Creek Street spider webs, letting the industrious spiders continue their day's work with the knowledge that I was free to stay and watch or move on and let go.  At the end of this famous boardwalk street, I noticed the too-early autumn foliage of a tree.  As I approached, I took out my camera to capture the sunshine, tree and leaves as a memory of this beautiful day.  Refocusing the camera, I discovered the tree was full of webs!

 

We have so many ways to weave our intentions or journey around what entangles us.  The choice is ours:  what meanings we attach... if we want to refocus... and how we want to see our world and one another.
 

Larry Gardepie

Dialogue San Diego Consulting

(click on link for website)

Seeing Clearly

Fourth grade... that was the year my teacher noticed I was talking too much to the classmate sitting in the neighboring desk.  Rather than reprimanding me for talking rather than working on our assignment, she asked me why I was talking.  I explained that I couldn't see what she had written on the blackboard.  Asking a question opened the door to seeing clearly:

• I was sent to the principal's office. (Am I in trouble?)
  
• I was given an eye exam. (Why are they checking my eyes?)
  
• I began a lifelong journey of optometrist check-ups. (I am nearsighted.)

Why reflect on this fourth grade epiphany and insights?  My glasses were fogging up during last week's Easter service, and I wondered:

When do I not see clearly the mysteries unfolding around me?

When is your vision or understanding clouded?

(Photo credit:  Mask Still Fogging Up Your Glasses?
Try These Tricks, Wexner Medical center, The Ohio State University)

The memory of when I put on my first pair of glasses is vivid.  The optometrist was a family friend.  He brought the Army-issued, black-rimmed glasses to my parents' house after work on a Friday evening.  With my parents, brothers, and sisters surrounding me, I tried them on... I looked around the living room... and I was shocked!  THIS is what everyone else is seeing?!

 

Everything was so clear and in focus!  As a child, I had no reference point to understand that my vision was poor.  I just knew I couldn't see the writing on the blackboard.  It took a teacher who noticed... and who asked a question.

Can multiple views be true?

Wearing my glasses to school on Monday, I looked at the schoolyard and classroom in a new way:  I was caught up by how amazing everything was... and how changed I felt.  By the first recess, though, the teasing and bullying began:  "Four Eyes" became a nickname; friends-turned-bullies tried to knock off the glasses; I felt ashamed at being an outcast.

What became clear:  don't stand out... don't be different.

 

As I gazed through mask-fogged glasses at the Easter service, I wondered about these childhood lessons.  Warm breath creates unclear images.  Halos appear around people's heads.  What else comes from my mouth that clouds how I see others?  What is true?  What is the mystery to be explored?

What happens when we seek clarity?

Moving outward from these memories, what are the lessons we want to -- or choose to -- learn from this COVID-fogged year:

• What questions can be asked when we don't see or understand clearly?
  
• Have we attached names to people who stand out or respond differently?
• Do we seek a reference point that brings clarity and appreciation?
  

 

Similar to the 9-year old who discovered he wasn't seeing clearly, maybe -- as we discover that multiple views may be true -- we can become excited at the beauty we are now experiencing!

May this week bring focus to what is important to you.  May you try on new perspectives that bring clarity to your life.
 

Larry Gardepie

Dialogue San Diego Consulting

(click on link for website)