Do not go gentle

Although I’ve blogged very personal events of my own life, I avoid blogging about other people’s lives, even when it has a major effect on my life. I haven’t felt it was my story to blog, but another reason things have been so hectic around here and will continue to be for a while is the traumatic death of my
stepson, Ted Sanders.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

It Takes a Village

Leslie and I moved to Tacoma when I retired to be near our kids and grandkids. We’ve had grandchildren stay overnight many times so parents could have a night out and so we could enjoy their company and spoil them a little. We even kept Gavin and Lael for two weeks while their parents went to Spain with high school students. I insist on keeping Saturdays free so I can see grandkids’ soccer games, occasional basketball games or musical programs. “Having fun with the kids and grandkids” is definitely the best part of living in Tacoma.

Recently, however, I’ve been involved in the more nitty-gritty aspect of their life. For the last month I’ve been cooking Lael’s breakfast and shuttling her back and forth to school because her grandmother, my first wife, broke one leg and sprained another and is unable to do these things right now. Tuesday was particularly hectic because it was a half day and Gavin had a orthodontist appointment right after I ran Lael to school. I’d promised to take Lael out for an early birthday lunch because it was about the only day she had free before her birthday. As a result, I had about 40 minutes between dropping Gavin back at school and picking Lael up again, just long enough to take a shower after my 6:30 workout.

Thankfully, I enjoy seeing Lael twice a day; she’s young enough to be cheerful and optimistic every day. But driving a kid back and forth to school seems more like work than “fun.” And I like taking kids to doctor and dentist appointments only slightly more than going there myself.

For the first time in his life Gavin is having some problems with a class, Algebra, and I suggested that perhaps I could help out some since his parents are so tied up with work. I took a look at the Algebra book today and realized that this isn’t the same Algebra I had in the 9th grade. I’m going to have to go back to the beginning of the book to get to the point where I can offer any help. That might be a good thing because I discovered recently that it was nearly impossible to understand environmental studies without a better understanding of math than I now have. I don’t remember very much about the math courses I took a long time ago in high school, even though I was in honors math all four years.

I have also discovered some positive side effects to having to operate on a schedule. I’ve been more conscientious about working out at the gym every day since it’s only a hop, skip and a jump from Lael’s school. I go to the gym right after dropping her off and work out for an hour and a half. As a result I’ve managed to drop to 180 pounds since I started taking her to school, something I haven’t been able to do for many years.

I also read a little of Thomas Merton’s The Seven Storey Mountain every day while I wait for Lael to get out of school. I might have read more if I had longer periods of unoccupied time, but I’ve discovered that regular physical exercise and regular meditation have become more important to me than reading books.

Luckily, the weather has cooperated by being it’s usual rainy winter and early spring, not rubbing in the fact that it’s nearly impossible to drive very far and still get back in time to pick up Lael at 3:30. I did get out to Belfair on Monday, but birding is still been slow.

Still, I’m reminded why I have books I bought while in college that I still haven’t read. If I were still teaching there is no way I would have time to blog; I seldom had time to even exercise regularly. Reading has always been a guilty pleasure in my life and I’m sure it will continue to be, but at the moment it has taken a back seat to raising grandkids and that’s probably not a bad thing.

Another Sunny Day at Theler

We got another sunny day on Monday, so I headed back to Belfair. There are lots of non-native plants blooming in my neighborhood, but you’re never sure Spring is really near until native plants like Skunk Cabbage

  Skunk Cabbage

begin to appear in the wetlands. Of course, there were only two, so it might merely be a sign of individual fool-hardiness.

Still, the Song Sparrows seemed convinced Spring is near because they were serenading loudly,

Song Sparrow

trying desperately to drown out rivals and Marsh Wrens

 Marsh Wrens

which seemed equally intent on staking their claim to some small part of these wetlands and finding a mate.

Luckily, they don’t have to compete directly with the larger and louder Canada Geese who have begun to pair off

Canada Geese

and claim the best nesting sites.

There may be some Winter left, but I’m not the only one anticipating Spring.

One Heart at a Time

When my friend Gary was dying last year, he looked back on his teaching career as a failure because he was dismayed by recent trends in society. It was hard to argue that this was the society we hoped to create when we became teachers. The best I could do was to argue that we had helped some students become the kinds of adults we had hoped they would become. I think Vanier is right in arguing that the only way to transform the world is “One Heart at a Time” and perhaps he is right in believing that change can only take place if the individual sees himself for who he really is:

As we have already said, there are things that are predetermined in human beings and things that are not. Identity and human growth are arrived at through choices: choices of friends and of the values we want to live by, the choice of where we put down roots, the choice to accept responsibility.


The first choice, at the root of all human growth, is the choice to accept ourselves; to accept ourselves as we are, with our gifts and abilities, but also our shortcomings, inner wounds, darkness, faults, mortality; to accept our past and family and environment, but equally our capacity for growth; to accept the universe with its laws, and our place at the heart of this universe. Growth begins when we give up dreaming about ourselves and accept our humanity as it is, limited and poor but also beautiful. Sometimes, the refusal to accept ourselves hides real gifts and abilities. The dangerous thing for human beings
is to want to be other than they are, to want to be someone else, or even to want to be God. We need to be ourselves, with our gifts and abilities, our capacity for communion and co—operation. This is the way to be happy.

It’s a natural tendency to want to see yourself as better than you really are, to deny your weaknesses and to overemphasize your strengths, but it’s hard to change what you are unwilling to accept. As a child I’m sure I wanted to appear “tougher” than I really was. Like many boys of my generation, John Wayne was my role model. Vietnam changed all that. Though I might actually have been tougher after my experiences, I no longer dreamed of being the “strong, silent type.” Instead, I realized that what I most enjoyed doing in life was helping others. To do that required being in touch with my own weaknesses and doubts, to empathize with students who were struggling with school and life in general.

The last section of Jean Vanier: Essential Writings entitled “The Christian Life” was less interesting to me, but it, too, contained ideas I could easily identify with:

Many of us are not aware of the sacred space within us,
the place where we can reflect and contemplate,
the space from which wonderment can flow
as we look at the mountains, the sky,
the flowers, the fruits and all that is beautiful in our universe,
the space where we can contemplate works of art.
This place, which is the deepest in us all,
is the place of our very personhood,
the place of inner peace where God dwells
and where we receive the light of life and the murmurings
of the Spirit of God.
It is the place in which we make life choices
and from which flows our love for others

Discovering and exploring this “sacred space” has been the greatest joy of my life. It remains a constant source of inspiration for me.

I’ll have to admit that Jean Vanier: Essential Writings far exceeded my expectations. I wouldn’t have bought it if I wasn’t intrigued by Lax’s recommendation, but I never suspected I would be so enamored with it. I’ve already added another of his books to my Amazon Wish List.