Official Toast Time
Whatever happens to me in life,
I must believe that somewhere,
In the mess or madness of it all
There is a sacred potential-
A possibility for wondrous redemption
In the embracing of all that is.
Edwina Gateley, A Mystical
Heart
They order drinks. When the waiter returns he asks, "What can I get you?"
"What I'd really love," Patti tells him, "is a piece of toast and this side of avocado slices." She points to the menu.
"Oh. I'm sorry," the waiter says, beginning a statement (writes Digh) that would mark The End of Civilization As We Know It. "I'm sorry, but it's past toast time."
Blink.
"Past toast time?"
"Yes, ma'am, it's past toast time."
"Wow. And here I never actually knew there was an official toast time."
The waiter's demeanor, impervious.
She thought about asking whether they had a toaster
and bread
and electricity,
but decided against it.
Talk about the light-bulb-of-enlightenment. There are moments that define our days. And it's reassuring to know that in certain restaurants, we have Official Toast Time.
I did laugh out loud when I read her story, but it's not that uncommon. We all live, or experience parts of life with some kind of wacky blinders. It has something to do with our need for control or security or comfort.
It reminds me of Robert Capon's insight that we live like ill-taught piano students. So concerned about the playing the right notes, we never hear the music.
There are a number of reasons for this preoccupation with right notes I suppose:
Public opinion (what will people think?)
Fear of retribution
Need to impress or get ahead
Apprehension about coloring outside the lines
In all these cases, we live self-consciously, focused on the notes (living the moment or experience correctly), and we have been known to squeeze the joy out of just about anything.
Or maybe, it is ourselves that gets squeezed out. This description from DH Lawrence, "He was always charming, courteous, perfectly gracious, in that hushed, musical voice of his. But absent. When all came to all, he just wasn't there."
In the end, we live by Official Toast Time.
It happens in ways big and little:
In the middle ages, people were discouraged from exploration, because no one knew what was beyond the maps, "there be dragons there."
And as a child I remember running down the aisle in church, playing tag with a friend and laughing (it was empty on a Sunday afternoon, the laughter bouncing from stained glass to stained glass, until I was upbraided quite sternly by the pastor, who told me in no uncertain terms, "there is no laughing in church.") (Now as an adult, when I visit some churches I see that he is right, there hasn't been laughter there in years.)
Summer is here in the Pacific Northwest. And I'm glad. The sun stays in the southwestern sky till well past nine. And the warmer air carries a sense of relaxation, as if time itself moves with less stress or urgency. Tonight I enjoyed a flock of Cedar Waxwings, using our pond for a summer pool party. When I tilted my head back, I could see miniature white clouds unhurriedly moving through the sky, like floats in a small town parade.
Although, the other day I heard someone say, "Wow. Summer's just started and life has already gotten ahead of me." So I guess we can take our urgency anywhere. Anytime.
This week someone wrote me to ask, "How, exactly, does one find Sabbath in the middle of craziness?" Good question. But the last thing they need is someone adding more to their plate with an equivalent of Sabbath Toast Time.
I know what it's like to take a Sabbath retreat, and then spend the entire time wondering if I'm "doing it correctly." (This self-consciousness so affected one reader that she found herself completely stressed every day saying the Rosary, worrying that she didn't have the right amount of piety.)
I'm all for finding Sabbath in craziness. But it starts with hearing the music, regardless of our circumstances. It's tempting to give Sabbath rules. And suggestions are good, as long as they don't become constraints, like toast time.
If rules would be helpful for you, start with these four:
Rule #1 - Be gentle with yourself.
Rule #2 - Pay attention. Even if only for five minutes. What do you see, hear, taste, smell and touch?
Rule #3 - Take a deep breath. Let it out and say "thank you."
Rule #4 - Try it again tomorrow.
When the greatness of the Tao (or God) is present, action arises from one's own heart.
When the greatness of the Tao (or God) is absent, action comes from the rules.
Tao Te Ching
My Lord told me a joke.
And seeing Him laugh has done more for me
than any scripture I will
ever read.
Meister Eckart (1260-1328)
A Brief for the Defense
Sorrow everywhere. Slaughter everywhere. If babies
are not starving someplace, they are starving
somewhere else. With flies in their nostrils.
But we enjoy our lives because that's what God wants.
Otherwise the mornings before summer dawn would not
be made so fine. The Bengal tiger would not
be fashioned so miraculously well. The poor women
at the fountain are laughing together between
the suffering they have known and the awfulness
in their future, smiling and laughing while somebody
in the village is very sick. There is laughter
every day in the terrible streets of Calcutta,
and the women laugh in the cages of Bombay.
If we deny our happiness, resist our satisfaction,
we lessen the importance of their deprivation.
We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure,
but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have
the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless
furnace of this world. To make injustice the only
measure of our attention is to praise the Devil.
If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down,
we should give thanks that the end had magnitude.
We must admit there will be music despite everything.
We stand at the prow again of a small ship
anchored late at night in the tiny port
looking over to the sleeping island: the waterfront
is three shuttered cafés and one naked light burning.
To hear the faint sound of oars in the silence as a rowboat
comes slowly out and then goes back is truly worth
all the years of sorrow that are to come.
Jack Gilbert
Although the future is not known to us, it is known to God and only to God. He holds it in his hands. You don't need to worry about it; it will come. God will take care of it. All we can see and feel is the present. All we can remember and honor is the past. It is enough, my children. Amen.
Village Chief in Nielle, Ivory Coast, Africa
The marriage of commerce and art produced this lovely and heart-rending story / commercial about a deaf girl learning to play the violin.
www.youtube
Another reader sent me this slide show of beautiful photography.
www.tom-phillips.info/powerpoint/eye-catching-photos.pps
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