Take One Step
January 12, 2009
The world breaks everyone, and afterward
many are strong at the broken places.
Ernest Hemingway
As long as the most important thing in
your life is to keep finding your way you're
going to live in mortal terror of losing it.
Once you're will to be lost, though, you'll
be home free. Robert Capon
The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man
while he lives. Albert Schweitzer
Toward the end of his life, Bruce had an
advanced case of Parkinson's. One of the
symptoms is particularly disconcerting.
Sometimes when Bruce sees a line on the floor
(perhaps because his eyes are cast down,
watching his feet, fearing a loss of
balance?), he stops, immobilized, because he
"sees" that line as a wall. He literally,
does not (or cannot) move.
A friend tells the story of a ride in an elevator with Bruce and Bruce's wife. The doors open. My friend and the wife exit the elevator. Bruce walks (with his walker) toward the open doors, but sees only the line, or space, that separates the elevator from the building floor. He stops. He sees only "a wall."
His wife speaks, "Bruce. Look at me. Bruce. Look up at me. Look at my eyes. Now take one step."
Bruce looks up, trusts who he sees, and steps slowly out of the elevator.
I cannot imagine Parkinson's, or the courage it takes to face and to battle such a debilitating and often humiliating disease.
But all of us know what it is like to feel stuck, or stymied, or (for reasons we don't even understand) stopped. There are times when we are just plain afraid to take another step. Our "limitation" or fear is greater than our ability to move forward.
When this happens to me, as it did this week, I am reluctant to tell anyone. Because, after all, "Big boys don't show any weakness."
I've got a dozens reasons why I give into my limitations, and none of them have to do with me. Like the old parable, "The girl who can't dance says the band can't play."
Merle Shain writes, "The older I get, the clearer it becomes to me that no one is cheated in this world, unless its by himself, but some of us are so wounded that we must return to the scene of the crime, must play with the fire that burned us, must live the scene out as many times as necessary until it comes out differently. We are not prisoners, no traps or snares are set about us, but many of us imprison ourselves or at least are helplessly stalled."
I do know that if I run from my brokenness, it only exacerbates the problem. Like it or not, we carry with us holes, and brokenness, and vulnerability.
In my early days, I assumed that "salvation" fixed all of that. You know, eliminated the broken stuff (like seeing walls when there were only lines). I figured that's what the Bible meant by being a new man. But I believe differently now. Salvation is about wholeness, at-one-ness with our Creator, which ironically is about living with our brokenness, instead of running from it. It is about literally, being at home with the self, this self, this extraordinarily loved and often messy self.
My Sabbath is a reminder to hear that voice. "Look at me. Terry. Now take one step."
The same voice that invited Peter (full of fear) out of the boat, onto a stormy sea, "Be not afraid. Look at me. Now take one step."
He didn't ask Peter to wait until he was "unafraid," or had it all figured out. He invited him to risk, and embrace this life, even with the imperfections and limitations, even knowing sooner or later, he'd sink.
Following up some research on Parkinson's I found this by Bob Dawson. It made laugh and say AMEN real loud (which made my cats nervous and run for cover).
I have Parkinson's.
A friend bombarded me with the Blues. I started to dance, and groove, and visualize. Music on - disease much better. Music off - symptoms come back. How come? I found out on the internet - chat rooms, YouTube, interest groups, e-mail exchanges, that there are Parkinson's patients who cannot walk, but they can dance.
What's up with that?
This site does not contain a cure for Parkinson's. I do not know if music and dance can help everybody.
If you have Parkinson's, it is my personal, non-scientific opinion that you should find music that you get off on, play it LOUD, and start to move to the music. Every day.
Dance as therapy.
Dance for flexibility, strength, endurance.
Dance for joy.
Dance in defiance of the disease.
I agree with all of that.
But here is what this site is really about:
Dance for a cure.
Dance to bother the scientists.
"Wherever our most primal fears reside-our fears of the dark, of death, of being devoured, of meaninglessness, of lovelessness, or of loss," Gregg Levoy writes, "chances are good that beneath them lie gems of wisdom and maybe a vision or a calling. Wherever you stumble-on a tree root, on a rock, on fear or shame, or vulnerability, on someone else's words, on the truth-dig there."
Or Dance there.
Or both at the same time.
Did you know that Franz Schubert wrote some of his best music (including Piano Sonata D. 959, released posthumously), music that never earned him a cent, that he never saw published or publicly recognized, when his symptoms of syphilis had advanced? Yet in the gloom, music rang out, what music from the depths, what sublime creativity, what ecstatic moments, usually as he entertained himself or dazzled a handful of guest and friends at private musical soirées. (From Andy Merrifield)
This goes beyond just the power of positive thinking. In the movie Kingdom of Heaven, about the battle for Jerusalem in the Middle Ages, Balian of Ibelin began knighting ordinary men, making them to understand that inside of them was a knight, something far greater than the limitations of their birth or fears or status.
The Bishop, Patriarch of Jerusalem: [almost crying] "Who do you think you are? Will you alter the world? Does making a man a knight make him a better fighter?"
Balian of Ibelin: "Yes"
"Look up at me," Balian of Ibelin was saying. "See in my eyes something more and far greater than you see and know in your limitations."
Do me a favor. Eliminate the question, "What did you accomplish today?" It makes my head spin, and I'm never sure if I get the answer right.
Instead, I hope that somewhere you hear the voice, "Look at me. You are loved and you are held."
And I hope that, like Bruce, it will be enough to say, "Today, I took one step."
NEW YEAR NOTE TO MY FRIENDS: For this season of celebration and the weeks beyond. I would like to offer you these gifts for one final week.
ONE:: A special incentive on anything you may want to buy from our books, CDs, DVDs and posters.
Until January 15, 2009, EVERYTHING is 40% off.
Yes, everything.
Go to http://www.terryhershey.com
TWO: New Terry Hershey videos.
Go to www.terryhershey
A friend tells the story of a ride in an elevator with Bruce and Bruce's wife. The doors open. My friend and the wife exit the elevator. Bruce walks (with his walker) toward the open doors, but sees only the line, or space, that separates the elevator from the building floor. He stops. He sees only "a wall."
His wife speaks, "Bruce. Look at me. Bruce. Look up at me. Look at my eyes. Now take one step."
Bruce looks up, trusts who he sees, and steps slowly out of the elevator.
I cannot imagine Parkinson's, or the courage it takes to face and to battle such a debilitating and often humiliating disease.
But all of us know what it is like to feel stuck, or stymied, or (for reasons we don't even understand) stopped. There are times when we are just plain afraid to take another step. Our "limitation" or fear is greater than our ability to move forward.
When this happens to me, as it did this week, I am reluctant to tell anyone. Because, after all, "Big boys don't show any weakness."
I've got a dozens reasons why I give into my limitations, and none of them have to do with me. Like the old parable, "The girl who can't dance says the band can't play."
Merle Shain writes, "The older I get, the clearer it becomes to me that no one is cheated in this world, unless its by himself, but some of us are so wounded that we must return to the scene of the crime, must play with the fire that burned us, must live the scene out as many times as necessary until it comes out differently. We are not prisoners, no traps or snares are set about us, but many of us imprison ourselves or at least are helplessly stalled."
I do know that if I run from my brokenness, it only exacerbates the problem. Like it or not, we carry with us holes, and brokenness, and vulnerability.
In my early days, I assumed that "salvation" fixed all of that. You know, eliminated the broken stuff (like seeing walls when there were only lines). I figured that's what the Bible meant by being a new man. But I believe differently now. Salvation is about wholeness, at-one-ness with our Creator, which ironically is about living with our brokenness, instead of running from it. It is about literally, being at home with the self, this self, this extraordinarily loved and often messy self.
My Sabbath is a reminder to hear that voice. "Look at me. Terry. Now take one step."
The same voice that invited Peter (full of fear) out of the boat, onto a stormy sea, "Be not afraid. Look at me. Now take one step."
He didn't ask Peter to wait until he was "unafraid," or had it all figured out. He invited him to risk, and embrace this life, even with the imperfections and limitations, even knowing sooner or later, he'd sink.
Following up some research on Parkinson's I found this by Bob Dawson. It made laugh and say AMEN real loud (which made my cats nervous and run for cover).
I have Parkinson's.
A friend bombarded me with the Blues. I started to dance, and groove, and visualize. Music on - disease much better. Music off - symptoms come back. How come? I found out on the internet - chat rooms, YouTube, interest groups, e-mail exchanges, that there are Parkinson's patients who cannot walk, but they can dance.
What's up with that?
This site does not contain a cure for Parkinson's. I do not know if music and dance can help everybody.
If you have Parkinson's, it is my personal, non-scientific opinion that you should find music that you get off on, play it LOUD, and start to move to the music. Every day.
Dance as therapy.
Dance for flexibility, strength, endurance.
Dance for joy.
Dance in defiance of the disease.
I agree with all of that.
But here is what this site is really about:
Dance for a cure.
Dance to bother the scientists.
"Wherever our most primal fears reside-our fears of the dark, of death, of being devoured, of meaninglessness, of lovelessness, or of loss," Gregg Levoy writes, "chances are good that beneath them lie gems of wisdom and maybe a vision or a calling. Wherever you stumble-on a tree root, on a rock, on fear or shame, or vulnerability, on someone else's words, on the truth-dig there."
Or Dance there.
Or both at the same time.
Did you know that Franz Schubert wrote some of his best music (including Piano Sonata D. 959, released posthumously), music that never earned him a cent, that he never saw published or publicly recognized, when his symptoms of syphilis had advanced? Yet in the gloom, music rang out, what music from the depths, what sublime creativity, what ecstatic moments, usually as he entertained himself or dazzled a handful of guest and friends at private musical soirées. (From Andy Merrifield)
This goes beyond just the power of positive thinking. In the movie Kingdom of Heaven, about the battle for Jerusalem in the Middle Ages, Balian of Ibelin began knighting ordinary men, making them to understand that inside of them was a knight, something far greater than the limitations of their birth or fears or status.
The Bishop, Patriarch of Jerusalem: [almost crying] "Who do you think you are? Will you alter the world? Does making a man a knight make him a better fighter?"
Balian of Ibelin: "Yes"
"Look up at me," Balian of Ibelin was saying. "See in my eyes something more and far greater than you see and know in your limitations."
Do me a favor. Eliminate the question, "What did you accomplish today?" It makes my head spin, and I'm never sure if I get the answer right.
Instead, I hope that somewhere you hear the voice, "Look at me. You are loved and you are held."
And I hope that, like Bruce, it will be enough to say, "Today, I took one step."
NEW YEAR NOTE TO MY FRIENDS: For this season of celebration and the weeks beyond. I would like to offer you these gifts for one final week.
ONE:: A special incentive on anything you may want to buy from our books, CDs, DVDs and posters.
Until January 15, 2009, EVERYTHING is 40% off.
Yes, everything.
Go to http://www.terryhershey.com
TWO: New Terry Hershey videos.
Go to www.terryhershey
Poems / Prayers
For Schubert's Sonata in D
www.youtube.com
For more on Bob Dawson and Parkinson's
www.parkinsonsdance
Be still:
There is no longer any need of comment.
It was a lucky wind
That blew away his halo with his cares,
A lucky sea that drowned his reputation. Thomas Merton
To Look at Any Thing
To look at any thing,
If you would know that thing,
You must look at it long:
To look at this green and say,
"I have seen spring in these
Woods," will not do - you must
Be the thing you see:
You must be the dark snakes of
Stems and ferny plumes of leaves,
You must enter in
To the small silences between
The leaves,
You must take your time
And touch the very peace
They issue from.
John Moffitt
Lord have mercy.
Have mercy on my darkness, my weakness, my confusion.
Have mercy on my infidelity, my cowardice, my turning about in circles, my wandering, my evasions.
I don not ask anything but such mercy, always, in everything, mercy.
My life here at Gethsemani--a little solidity and very much ashes.
Almost everything is ashes. What I have prized most is ashes.
What I have attended to least is, perhaps, a little solid.
Lord have mercy.
Guide me, make me want again to be hold, to be a man of God even though in desperateness and confusion.
I do not necessarily ask for clarity, a plain way, but only to go according to Your love, to follow Your mercy, to trust in Your mercy.
Amen.
Thomas Merton
Peace,
Terry Hershey
