Greetings in the Name of the Lord!

Supposedly we have four seasons here. Maybe there are some places that have four seasons, but the Rochester/Finger Lakes area is not one of them. Think of it. We have winter, recognized as one of the four seasons, but come April, we don't get "spring" we get this other season, sometimes referred to as "False Spring" where it will be nice and sunny and warm one day, and snowing the next. It is interesting, having lived away from the area as long as I did, that I started to remember winter as being the most challenging season, and the rest of the country certainly looks at us a little sideways for either choosing to live here or choosing to remain living here.  But being back now for a few years, I am recognizing/remembering that it is the oddball in-between "season" that is really the most challenging time of year.  At least in winter, we know what to expect, to get up every day, shovel some snow, and prepare to drive in lousy conditions, but this time of year, there is no way to really prepare from one day to the next.  I made the mistake this year of putting my cold weather running gear back at the bottom of my dresser, only to pull it out like 3 days later!

As some of us are starting to put seedlings in the ground in hopes of Fall veggies, there is that little nagging anxiety in the back of our minds, I hope this isn't too soon, or that it is not already too late.  We have all sorts of liturgical seasons, and we are in the midst of Easter, which is a season to live into the Hope of the resurrected Christ, but in many ways, outside it is a little more like an extended Holy Saturday, with uncertainty and a lack of predictability.  So much of life tends to be like this, we want certainty, we want to know what is coming next, particularly after difficult challenges, like the events of Good Friday, or our own lived tragedies that transform us forever. Yet all we can ever really do is live in the moment day to day.

I recently crafted some curriculum for a Haiku class at the Victor-Farmington Library. I loved the opportunity to re-explore the genre of poetry. Haiku requires simple presence in the immediate moment.  Here are a few of my favorite examples I came across:

The rain has filled

the bird bath

again, almost

 -Jack Kerouac

The lamp once out

cool stars enter

the window frame

     -Natsume Soseki

Losing its name

a river

enters the sea

     -John Sandbach

A gray dawn

again, and again the call

of the mourning dove

     -Sarah Paris

After weeks of watching the roof leak

I fixed it tonight

moving a single board

     -Gary Snyder

Again, there is simplicity, there is vividness, there is being in the moment.  When things are most chaotic, that is when it is often hardest to find our grounding, our roots. We have to more intentional about being present, staying in the moment, remembering what truly waters our roots. Not the chaos of the world, but rather the deepness and reliability of God.

Let these Haikus help remind you of what it feels like to be still for a moment, to be present to all the waves and winds of the world around us, and to be reminded of what is our true center, a center overflowing with Love.

In Peace, 

Mike