Dear Pneuma,

Have you ever been in a large group of excited people and tried to get their attention, just for a moment, to pass along a piece of important information? Just stepped into a room where people are passionately discussing their political positions and tried to catch their attention with "Hey, does anyone own a blue Volvo? Your headlights are on?" I think God must feel like that.

It has struck me today that just because lots of people do something, does not make that something right, or even OK. Don't get me wrong. I line up with the rest of the folks that say they understand how silly it is to assume that because everyone else is doing something, I should do it also. My mother asked me, "If your friends all jumped off a cliff, would you jump off too?" and, of course, I answered, "No."

Yet, what I actually mean to say is that down deep, I think most of us would jump off that cliff. I would assume my friends knew what they were doing. I would tell myself that there must be something everyone else knows. Maybe there is an invisible net at the bottom of the cliff. Maybe they expect to develop superpowers and fly before splattering on the rocks at the bottom. Surely, if everyone else is jumping, there is good cause and reason.

So, what if, in the flurry of flinging, a single, gentle voice tries to say, "Uh, guys?" What if some weedy little kid with thick glasses, suspenders and a bad haircut were to say, "Jumping off the cliff? Not a good idea"? I don't think we would listen. I don't think we would even hear. I think we would run, jump, fly, and land badly. I think some of us would die. I think some of us would get seriously mangled, and I think some of us would bounce and land unscathed on our feet. What's more, I think we would look at the tide of falling people, and very few of us would decide to stand with the funny-looking guy trying to point out what a bad idea jumping is for most of us.

This struck me today as I read an email from an older acquaintance of mine who is committed to watching over a great-grandchild. This friend has raised two families already, works part-time and has an ailing spouse. Another casual connection has added a baby to her life-not her baby. Not her grandbaby. Not even her great-grandbaby. She has taken over significant care of an infant for a person who is not related by blood. Both of these women are caring for infants while continuing to work, volunteer, and grandmother their children's children.

Another story I heard recently suggested that two adults with children in this United States have "no choice" but to work two full-time jobs in order to maintain a lifestyle; that the price of children is loss of time to be with those children. In another friend's home, I see adult people functioning on caffeine, virtual reality and adrenalin to maintain some sense of sanity in a world of material possessions and social commitments that strangle any notion of free time.

Successful people hold down 70/hr. a week jobs, mow the lawn, bake Thanksgiving pies, volunteer at school or their church, travel for the holidays and add a little bit of continuing education on the tail end of their day. I find in my own life a serious struggle between having "meaning" to the world, and have a meaningful relationship with my Beloved. We negotiate our relationship health by how much time it takes from each of our own pressing outside concerns.

And when I realize that these stories indicate insanity-something un(in)healthy(sanus), I join that funny-looking fellow who has been saying all along: jumping off the cliff is a bad idea, no matter how many people are doing it. I find myself, like him, unheard, but saying it just the same: "Just because the entire world of people outside the window believe they will learn to fly before hitting the bottom, doesn't mean they will." Every now and then, someone stops to listen. Every now and then, someone turns back and walks away from the edge. Mostly, people just keep jumping. It's as if they didn't even hear.

Hope you aren't falling,

Cobalt Dreams

Dear Pneuma,

I lost myself. I think I feel relieved. I am a hard person to be around. I am not very funny. I am often hyper-critical and I am easily bored. When I am around other people, I can share the burden, but when I am alone, I have to spend all of my time with me, and boy is that hard work.

Anyway, I got busy, and I seem to have misplaced myself. I can tell, because there is a vast white emptiness inside.

I keep asking, "What do you want," but I refuse to answer. I have some free time to spend with me, but I am apparently off playing hide-and-seek. It's disappointing, too. I have some good questions for me. I even have the time and space to listen. Where on earth did I go?

If you see me, let me know I am looking.

Thanks,

Cobalt Dreams

Dear Pneuma,

Sometimes grade school teachers and well-meaning parents suggest that jealousy is a small and petty crime: something womanish and insecure, yet in the Old Testament, God-the being whose name is not to be spoken-is a jealous God. Even Solomon in his wisdom claims that jealousy is "fervid as the grave."

I believe jealousy is a thing of power. Rightly to be feared, perhaps. Rightly to be avoided even, but I have to own myself, and I am a jealous being. Envious in the deep spaces of me when my claim is challenged. Angry and implacable towards the transgression of oaths made to me. I am a thick, black-choked swamp of malice and judgment towards that which separates me from my Beloved. Worse, when my Beloved's attention is given to another, the green and spiteful hatred I feel towards that other is potent-vivifying, powerful. It would be a lie to say I do not want to release that power.

In this way, life is choice, always. The truth is not found by denying my jealous nature. Integrity is choosing not to turn it loose. Jealousy-powerful, fervid, deathless-may be indicative of the Divine in human nature, but the New Testament God-embodied and revealed through Christ-is a loving God. Love always puts the Beloved first. Love has faith. Love sets the Beloved free.

Choosing Faith,

Cobalt Dreams

Dear Pneuma,

Whoever suggests that Enlightenment is a linear process is dead wrong. Finding the way through life is a spiral experience, and that is only if I am being an optimist. Some days I am convinced that life moves in a circular pattern; that, like the Wheel of Fortune, each of us is doomed to walk the same path of ups and downs over and over with no reprieve, changing pattern, or purpose. Today I am convinced the pattern varies each time, and though I may be experiencing a similar adventure, I am not actually in the same place I was before.

My pattern involves a struggle between the desire for control over that which I feel, and the fact that I only feel when I refuse the reins of control. Any artist or athlete can tell you what I mean. Technique only becomes artistry when it is used as a tool of the artist. When mastery of technique is the single goal of the artist, that which is created may work, but will rarely communicate anything important. Keeping the balance between technique (control) and expression (disciplined feeling) is an ongoing exercise for me.

My pattern also involves friction between loneliness and differentiation. It seems I am never completely free of desire to "be liked." I seek the safety and solace of fitting in. I often try to reduce tensions in my relationships by refusing to state a preference or apologizing when some expression of mine creates discomfort for another. Yet that refusal to differentiate myself from other stunts my potentials and contributes to dissatisfaction with my day to day existence. It also leads to shallow relationships-the exact opposite result from the one desired.

Another significant pattern that I revisit with each iteration of the spiral staircase is the inner conflict between ambition and mindfulness. I desire greatness, but I repudiate fame, fortune, power, martyrdom, self-denial, and poverty. I believe that being as and what I am is all that is asked, yet I feel like I have failed with each instance of another's greater achievement. I "should" work harder, focus better, commit more deeply-in short BE MORE.

Each of these tensions re-erupts from time to time in my life. Each time I believe I have vanquished one unworthiness, one obstacle on my path to Enlightened living, I find one of the other old soldiers standing before me. I am left with the choice between taking up my arms or going home. (One time I tried surrendering completely. No one would accept my terms.) So, either I am walking the same path-an ox strapped to the mill wheel, believing the cud I chew is the purpose of my being-or I am walking around the same center, but each step I take is actually taking me someplace new.

I really don't want to believe I am too obstinate to learn. I will take the second interpretation.

Comfortable in my illusions,

Cobalt Dreams.