Love will save the world...

...and I hope love will save my friend Clinton. Within the next four weeks or so, he will undergo open heart surgery, for the third time in a year. I can't imagine going through one of these surgeries, much less three in a row. I was with Clinton during his recovery from the first one last year and I'll take having my head cut open any day. Clinton was also with me the day I fell from the boat and was the one who dug my cell phone out of my pocket as I lay unconcious on the ground and called my parents with the news. He, among many, saved my life that day.

Clinton also found out he was to be a father just three days before his first surgery; and in September, after his second surgery to repair damage from the first, was able to witness the birth of River Lucas Wilson.

So now, he and his family wait for the day when he will have his chest and heart cut open yet again to repair his aortic valve. This time I pray he makes it through and will be able to witness his son grow up.

...Epilogue...

This scrap of plastic was put up on Feb 8, 2005 just as I was finishing up the last of the prep work for shipping the boat up to Seattle. At this moment, I was a harried ball of nerves doing everything I could to get her ready before I had to go back to Seattle. Somehow, these words came to me as I stood in the main salon exhausted, alone and afraid that I would forget something crucial. I know a lot about boats. I've been around them for years. But I know nothing about rebuilding them. To look below decks on this boat (or above for that matter)was completely overwhelming. "Where do I begin" was all I could think. So to have hope in the "not seen" in this boat was a gut wrenching act of faith for me. I suppose that's where my heart was heading when I scribbled on that scrap of plastic and taped it up to the dirty, mildewy bulkhead. Indeed, she will be beautiful....I hope.

So now, almost a year to the day after that story began, I am living in an epilogue of sorts to how that story nearly ended up. I have had many such gut wrenching acts of faith in things not seen since, and I dare say a little more dire than the fate of an old boat. On some level, I think we all of us are living epilogues to some story from the past, or even present. Either the larger story being written, or our own small and only seemingly insignificant stories lived out every day. God knows to have faith in the story being written today is gut wrenchingly difficult. There is so much unseen, and so many all too familiar reasons to abandon hope. So the epilogue is the real story, the unending story. The story we are all living today and the story we all must have hope that will be beautiful again.

And so that is why, in my own muddled little mind, this boat will be named,..."Epilogue"...

Pacing the cage...

On a somewhat related note from my last forray into the world of desire, I came across an interview with Scott Cairns who, in Annie Dillard's mind (I can't argue with her), is "one of the best poets alive". Well, he also teaches creative writing at University of Missouri-Columbia and this is what he said to the question of his goals for his students.

"I want them to see themselves, and what they create, as part of an ongoing, vital tradition. I want them to turn away from the modernist, personal mode and its taste for ennui. I want them to find in poetry a means of consoling their losses, a way of witnessing grace, and an access to living, even now, in what we still might call the Kingdom of God. I want us all to be free of petty passions, and freed into serving enormous passions. I know that's pretty big talk, but I think poetry has the power to effect just such pleasures. I think the writer of John's gospel was onto something when he chose Logos as a metaphor for the Christ. I like also the Hebrew notion of word, davhar, a word which is also a thing, a power, an agent instigating other, subsequent words."

This has more to do with my secret fantasy to be a writer...Well, my chances are probably better sailing single-handed around the world in a dinghy, but one must have dreams yes?

On Generativity...

Today has been a day of agony of sorts. Sometimes I am overcome by desire. Not necessarily explicit or understandable desire, but one that leaves me aching, writhing with creativity and longing for something that seems outside of this world, of this life. The problem is, God has a way of showing up just enough to wake me from the slumber of soul that so defines this age and remind me that I am made for something other than what we can muster in our muddled stupor. Suddenly, all the things I care deeply about come crashing through. All the things that light my passion for living re-emerge like a good Van Morrison song visiting me from some strange corner of life. I can no longer tolerate stumbling along with my eyes shut, pretending that this world really has what I need. I just want. And some days it feels so beautiful it hurts. Which is, I suppose, what drives many of us to our slumber.

And then I came across a picture of my nephew Everett and it starts all over. It almost makes me cry because he lives so far away and I love him so much. I've had many very dear friends have children. I'm a Godfather to a 10 year old that I deeply love. But I never knew one could fall this hard, this fast, in love with a child. I wanted to pack him as carry-on when I came back to Seattle a couple weeks ago. My desire has some clarity here, some teeth. Sweet Jesus help me.

Soul's Passage: A Sailing Adventure for Men

This is just a draft of some copy I'm thinking of using for one of the programs on the boat...

Men live much of their lives in quiet desperation and boredom, fulfilling responsibilities, raising families, amassing fortunes, and generally following the rules. Many times this widespread boredom finds relief in unhealthy and destructive ways, leaving fallout that spans generations, gender and culture. Creating a legacy of hidden fears and shattered souls that threatens to hollow the very core of who we are created to be. While our churches certainly mean well, the response to this crisis often teaches us to become disciplined rather than passionate, effective rather than creative and safe rather than free.

Join us as we hoist a sail to the wind and take a journey into the soul of a man. A journey into that which is most elemental and essential; To that which is most human and to that which we are most created for. Our deep exploration into story, calling and passion will take us into the waters of Puget Sound aboard the sailing yacht Epilogue where we will feast on fine food and stunning wildlife, learn to sail, and connect with each other aboard this unique floating community.