Sunset and discerning the use of time

watching the sunset at the Jesuit Center in Wernersville #1 by Wayne Stratz

I chose the evening and went out to see what would happen. These images (in chronological order) are the best of what I photographed when I gave myself over an hour to be with the ending day. Sunsets are fickle. How do the clouds pass into and out of the angle of the light? Who is to know what will transpire when one decides to watch the sunset.

I imagine a brick wall that my life is about to slam into. It is harsher than normal; this school year that is about to start. I don't have greater than normal dread of the students, the subjects, the paperwork, the colleagues, ... 

But the time and energy taken away to provide my students what they deserve had formed a wall speeding at my spirit, which more than ever wants to do art and the work involved in selling art. Maybe it was a summer of vacation time and half days that was barely touched by doing shows. Maybe going back to teaching felt like a relief those summers we did tons of shows.

So I want to make the most of my time, give my body and mind and soul restful moments; while be creative and being prepared to teach.

A well laid out schedule for each day of the week? Well I am not a big fan of planning so that is not the route. However, I have decided to commit early morning hours to writing Stratoz blogs, Nutmeg D blogs, and every Saturday morning a newsletter (sign up here)

But what about the rest of the weekend and my evenings, I imagine this: I arrive home from work and make coffee and sit with Margaret as I use my Trello App to make a checklist of priorities. It has been working. Today for instance: write a newsletter, laundry, a peace symbol commission, straightening up the clutter surrounding my chair of contemplation, reading about science literacy to inspire my first week in the classroom... and now this blog post. 

and rest, good food, prayer, music, and time with joyful souls. I guess I have a plan, and like the following sunset, it will be affected by forces beyond my control.

watching the sunset at the Jesuit Center in Wernersville #2 by Wayne Stratz

watching the sunset at the Jesuit Center in Wernersville #3 by Wayne Stratz

watching the sunset at the Jesuit Center in Wernersville #4 by Wayne Stratz

watching the sunset at the Jesuit Center in Wernersville #5 by Wayne Stratz

Emerging From a Comfortable Silence

I drove up to sunflowers that dazzled me Monday at noon. The eight days of silence had gone as smoothe as any retreat I had been on, it felt comfortable from beginning to end. Well, except my spiritual director kept asking me how I felt about this, that, and the other thing. But that's her job, too take me deeper into my experience.

I fully expected to come home and storm social media with a last days drive to meet my campaign to feed the hungry. And it started that way, but it just didn't feel right. And the hours are ticking by to midnight in California turns the campaign to a pumpkin on August 31.

I want to write reflections, not flood the Internet with requests for help.

Nearly 30 years ago I was walking door to door trying to spread the good message of the environment. I was OK with getting folk to listen to me, but terrible at raising money. Thus I did not get paid to do it for very long. I am pleased to having raised over $1000.00. But I am tired of asking for money.

I have made Manna on Main known to my friends. I have passed along some information about hunger. But I feel more compelled to be in my studio, in my garden, and with friends then doing a final flurry. 

I once rode my bicycle to the Catskills. I would pull into campgrounds much to the amazement of those, who had arrived in trucks pulling campers. What I remember most from the trip is the desire those new neighbors had to feed me. I was far from starving, but I was much better fed when I moved on the next morning. I did not know where I would stop, but it always turned out that I was invited to a meal.

Now I am curious how that kindness might have led to a lifetime of supporting people who feed the hungry, and to the pleasure I have inviting folk over for dinner. As I write this, I am hoping to draw more cards of thanks for those who support my goal of 21 hundred dollars. But I am ready to be content passing on these final thoughts. 

Feed the hungry.

Donate to your local food pantry.

Volunteer, they need hands as well as money.

Put a huge basket for canned goods in your church or office.

Feed the hungry.

The journey ends where it began.

The Differentiated Instruction of Playing Jazz in a Horticulture Classroom

I often have jazz playing inside my classroom. The other day I was listening to the Esbjorn Svensson Trio when the end of 7th period approached. I Thought about the next group of students and decided something a bit mellower was in order. I checked out my jazz stash and went with some Mel Torme.

It worked well.

tugged

My buddy Jim at Brainwaves speaks about a spirit filled life, centered on being tugged... "Did you do your best to follow His tug on your reins, to commune with him at the well," he wrote at the end of a recent post. I think Saint Ignatius would have agreed.

So here I am one day away from my first day off from teaching since Labor Day, and I will be filling two days getting ready (with a break to feast with family), two days attending, and a Sunday resting... a craft show.

I have been tugged my whole life to draw designs. Glass is relatively new, but I may have made a discernment that it is where I am being tugged.

I have a friend named Bud Hohlfeld, who is a wood worker. A talented one at that. He used to be tugged by glass. He has a lot of stained glass. He has given us a lot of what he calls scraps. I went to his house to check out his glass and he said he wanted to sell all the big pieces. He told me a price. I am being tugged.

For now I am still working on washing the "scraps" he gave us and the old dishwasher as dish rack trick is working out nicely...



When I got to Bud's house, I tried to take a look at his glass pieces, but the sun was setting. One was a large rose. The next "original design" I drew reminded me of it, and I used seven types of Bud's glass in it. Bud's own rose had a greater likeness of a rose but the center reminded me of a Rennie MacIntosh rose. My center does that too but I spiral out differently than Bud did. Here is what I have called Bud's Rose... one up close shows the colors, the other shows a cool sky... well what sky isn't cool????

time for a friend

I am behind in grading my students work, I scramble to be prepared for teaching, my garden at home has been neglected, and I am falling further behind in my readings for the graduate class I am taking. However, I have found time to pray for an extra hour each day (by getting up early) because I have started Ignatius's spiritual exercises in everyday life. Prayer is a fine time to discern what needs to be done.

Three weeks ago I heard some sad news. Two weeks ago I walked a labyrinth and that news came into my prayer. A friend at work has gotten some rotten medical news and is at home hoping for a miracle. As I sat in the middle of the labyrinth God says, "Tell me you don't have the time to go visit the man. The man who has greeted you with kindness for ten years." What could I say to that?

His wife is an avid gardener and requested help dividing day lilies and irises which are taking over portions of her yard. She pointed out that the day lilies were a favorite of his. I e-mail her telling her I wanted to get some so that I could bring them to work and create a garden with my horticulture students.

I was well into getting myself sweaty and dirty when he came outside with his feeding tube. We sat in the middle of an amazing garden. While I drank water, we chatted. We spoke about spiritual retreats, the school we work at, the garden, his diagnosis, and Psalms. I have heard he is praying psalms every night. I tell him psalm 139 is important to me, and it turns out that we share favorite psalms. He tells me how he watches the Christmas Carol each year because of a recitation of psalm 139.

An hour or so later I was headed to the school to unload a car filled to the brim with lilies and irises. I am physically and emotionally drained. The day is near over and all of the things which I have fallen behind are still on my to do list. I do believe I discerned correctly on how I spent this day.

Tonight my prayer takes me to the idea of God creating us out of nothing each moment. I sense this is how miracles can occur. In that instant of being recreated, maybe, just maybe healing can occur.