In quietness and rest this home is a vessel.
A vessel which carries life and being, but does not limit its function, malfunction or growth.
As I rest here on the couch I hear the gentle whirring of the dishwasher, lulling the quietness of the warm air in this house, as it makes clean the lesser vessels which held the well prepared dinner just enjoyed.
I can hear the gentle rumble of the stove, with its slow creaking as its metal expands; this vessel of fire which keeps the air warm, which can take a chill out of a cold room, a cold body, sometimes even out of a cold heart.
Above this, but gently, I hear the voices of two generations, though time and experience divide them; they are cooing to each other. I can hear grandmother gently holding, and grand-daughter reaching out to time and experience. For a moment the two seem as one, both intertwined with the other, grandmother drawn to be child-like and grand-daughter grasping for grandmother's experience. How we grow with and into each other in mysterious ways.
We are vessels of life, of hope and love, of growth and brokenness, of quietness and strength, vessels that carry light and warmth, in this furnace made of skin, of tender enduring material, which stretches and creaks with experience and time, that gives light and warmth for those nearby to enjoy, to stand close to and heal, to find nourishment in the feast of company and love, to cleanse and wash each other through water and tears and sometimes fire, to hold and to shelter and to bring together. How we grow with and into each other in mysterious ways.
Yet though we are the vessels of light and life, we are not the light itself. We are the vessels. Yet, we are more than vessels.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
"There are many who love God and wander in the wilderness; I will follow the one who loves the persons made by God."
I've been writing papers and exams over the last couple weeks now and have come across so much interesting information! I wish I could subject everyone to it.
This quote I came across today. It comes from one who some call Islam's most outstanding thinker, Mahummad Iqbal.
(ref. Muhammad Iqbal, Bang-e-Dara (Urdu)(Lahore, 1962), 151)
I've been writing papers and exams over the last couple weeks now and have come across so much interesting information! I wish I could subject everyone to it.
This quote I came across today. It comes from one who some call Islam's most outstanding thinker, Mahummad Iqbal.
(ref. Muhammad Iqbal, Bang-e-Dara (Urdu)(Lahore, 1962), 151)
Sunday, December 6, 2009
An Advent Prayer: The Second Sunday of Advent
I usually end up forgetting about Advent until partway through the season. It's easy to get swept into the busy fray, especially with final papers and exams, and not take the time to soak in this season. But each year, as I am pulled into the Advent celebrations, I find more and more value in it, in meditating on the themes brought up, especially in my community here in St. Stephen. It' more than recognizing an event that has happened in the birth of Christ, marking a Christian holiday, spending time with family and focusing more on Christ. It is all of these things in more or less ways, but I think I am learning that it is also being deeply aware that Christ is still becoming present and working in and through people, our communities and in each of one of us. The time of Advent is a time of anticipating this presence. One of the members of our community, Rachel Barham, wrote a prayer for the second week of Advent and it emphasizes this anticipation of the presence of Christ in our lives and the life of the world.
We wait with Mary for Christ to be formed in us,
Daring to trust this hidden womb-weaving,
And treasuring the smallest signs of growth.
As Mary took heart to see
the wondrous swelling of
So the burgeoning life of God we see in others
encourages us that this sacred life grows also in us.
More and more, we long to bring Christ into the world,
Though we know that pain and labour accompany the birth of new life
As surely as joy and wonder.
Groaning and waiting,
Pregnant with hope and desire,
We prepare today a place for your coming,
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
I feel like my life is unbalanced.
How is it that I can take out a student loan and live on money I don't really have? I understand the meaning of investment. Good ones, bad ones, what will get a return, what won't. But even still, am I moving forward by going back?
How is it that I have to place a monetary value on my being able to spend Christmas at home? I don't want to feel burdened for going home. My plane ticket is my ticket to see my family. Why should buying a ticket make me less excited to go home? Or will I value my family time more by being able to or not being able to go home? is the question "can I afford the ticket?" or "should I afford the ticket?" or should I even ask a question?
How is it that I am almost done my education and I still feel like I'm just barely beginning to grasp how to bring a thought together intelligently and thoughtfully, slowly drawing it out on a piece of paper, grasping for words?
How is it that the world moves so quickly, that time passes without letting me mine the moment for the worth, and I'm stuck with a pick axe or jackhammer in hand, trying to mine a moment in the past as time continues to move forward? Does the time that passes while I'm jack-hammering on a earlier moment mean more because I'm mining, even though hundreds and perhaps thousands of other moments are passing by? Do we waste time mining something of little worth when something of greater worth lies in a moment that we haven't touched?
I can't be all places at once. I can't be all things at once. I can't do all things at once. But I am always at once alive.
How is it that I can take out a student loan and live on money I don't really have? I understand the meaning of investment. Good ones, bad ones, what will get a return, what won't. But even still, am I moving forward by going back?
How is it that I have to place a monetary value on my being able to spend Christmas at home? I don't want to feel burdened for going home. My plane ticket is my ticket to see my family. Why should buying a ticket make me less excited to go home? Or will I value my family time more by being able to or not being able to go home? is the question "can I afford the ticket?" or "should I afford the ticket?" or should I even ask a question?
How is it that I am almost done my education and I still feel like I'm just barely beginning to grasp how to bring a thought together intelligently and thoughtfully, slowly drawing it out on a piece of paper, grasping for words?
How is it that the world moves so quickly, that time passes without letting me mine the moment for the worth, and I'm stuck with a pick axe or jackhammer in hand, trying to mine a moment in the past as time continues to move forward? Does the time that passes while I'm jack-hammering on a earlier moment mean more because I'm mining, even though hundreds and perhaps thousands of other moments are passing by? Do we waste time mining something of little worth when something of greater worth lies in a moment that we haven't touched?
I can't be all places at once. I can't be all things at once. I can't do all things at once. But I am always at once alive.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Lobster Fishing
It will be two weeks ago this coming Wednesday that I had the amazing opportunity to experience an essential part of the Maritimes. I was invited to be a fourth man on a fishing boat on the second day of lobster season.
My Wednesday began at 5 am. My International Studies professor, Lois, and her husband Dale live on Deer Island, an island that is a short ferry ride off the southern Canadian Atlantic coast, part of the Bay of Fundy. I had driven there the night before in anticipation of the early morning and long day. One of the primary occupations on Deer Island is fishing, and I was waking up early with Dale and others from the island to join them in pulling in the nights catch.
The day before Dale and the crew (his son Judson, Judson's friend and a classmate of mine, Kyle) had baited and dropped the lobster traps (300 of them!). As the traps rest on the ocean floor, the bait attracts the lobster and they get caught in the cage, "trapped" until the cage is hauled up and the lobsters removed.
Hauling in the cages was our job that Wednesday. And because it was the first catch of the season it was also one of the most important. The cages are attached to a rope with a buoy on the end of it (sometimes the rope is up to 50 fathoms or 300 feet long). The rope retrieved by hooking the buoy and then fed into a hydrolic pulley which begins pulling up the cage. Once up the cage is then emptied of its catch (lobster, fish, crabs, sometimes pop cans), re-baited with fresh bait and dropped back down into the ocean.
The lobsters are kept, obviously, but only those over a certain size. Rubber bands are put on their claws to keep them from fighting and injuring each other when they are stored in their crates. It was my job to put rubber bands on the lobsters and pack them in the crates while Dale drove the boat and Judson retrieved and re-baited the cages. We worked on the boat from around 6:30 am until 5 pm, moving from buoy to buoy and pulling up each cage. By the time we headed back for the harbour we had managed to pull up 295 of the 300 cages and about 2000 lbs of lobster!
Some might be interested in what side affects I felt from a day on the ocean. Well, sorry to disappoint, but I found my legs and stomach were quite solid. It was a beautiful day though, with calm water and the only major waves being the ones that the fishing boats were making. I may or may not have fell into the bait box a couple times when I lost my balance banding the lobsters. I also lost feeling in my hand about halfway through the day from using the banding pliers so repetitively.
It's funny to think that an animal which was once thought of as a bottom feeder, and not to be eaten unless at last resort, is today one of the more popular and expensive dishes. The coasts of New Brunswick and Maine are well known for their lobster. An article I read from back in 2007 pointed out that lobster is one of Canada's most valuable seafood resources, with live lobster generating anywhere from 400 to 600 million dollars in revenue per year. The last couple years have been tougher with catches lower than usual. He said the catch we pulled in that Wednesday was good for an average year. Dale said prices for live lobster were low now, but he still seemed optimistic. Like many fisherman, Dale counts on the various fishing seasons throughout the year. Lobster season opens in mid November and closes mid January, and then scallop season begins and others follow. Canada's fishing industry is important to the many maritimers throughout New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, PEI and Newfoundland who depend on the fish and lobster each year.
During my time here I've experienced a lobster "feed" a couple of times. I think it takes some getting used to. For any who have yet to experience it, eating lobster is interesting and messy work. If done right it tastes great, and the experience quite unforgettable. Here are a few pictures from the day on the boat and also one from from our lobster feed earlier this year.
My Wednesday began at 5 am. My International Studies professor, Lois, and her husband Dale live on Deer Island, an island that is a short ferry ride off the southern Canadian Atlantic coast, part of the Bay of Fundy. I had driven there the night before in anticipation of the early morning and long day. One of the primary occupations on Deer Island is fishing, and I was waking up early with Dale and others from the island to join them in pulling in the nights catch.
The day before Dale and the crew (his son Judson, Judson's friend and a classmate of mine, Kyle) had baited and dropped the lobster traps (300 of them!). As the traps rest on the ocean floor, the bait attracts the lobster and they get caught in the cage, "trapped" until the cage is hauled up and the lobsters removed.
Hauling in the cages was our job that Wednesday. And because it was the first catch of the season it was also one of the most important. The cages are attached to a rope with a buoy on the end of it (sometimes the rope is up to 50 fathoms or 300 feet long). The rope retrieved by hooking the buoy and then fed into a hydrolic pulley which begins pulling up the cage. Once up the cage is then emptied of its catch (lobster, fish, crabs, sometimes pop cans), re-baited with fresh bait and dropped back down into the ocean.
The lobsters are kept, obviously, but only those over a certain size. Rubber bands are put on their claws to keep them from fighting and injuring each other when they are stored in their crates. It was my job to put rubber bands on the lobsters and pack them in the crates while Dale drove the boat and Judson retrieved and re-baited the cages. We worked on the boat from around 6:30 am until 5 pm, moving from buoy to buoy and pulling up each cage. By the time we headed back for the harbour we had managed to pull up 295 of the 300 cages and about 2000 lbs of lobster!
Some might be interested in what side affects I felt from a day on the ocean. Well, sorry to disappoint, but I found my legs and stomach were quite solid. It was a beautiful day though, with calm water and the only major waves being the ones that the fishing boats were making. I may or may not have fell into the bait box a couple times when I lost my balance banding the lobsters. I also lost feeling in my hand about halfway through the day from using the banding pliers so repetitively.
It's funny to think that an animal which was once thought of as a bottom feeder, and not to be eaten unless at last resort, is today one of the more popular and expensive dishes. The coasts of New Brunswick and Maine are well known for their lobster. An article I read from back in 2007 pointed out that lobster is one of Canada's most valuable seafood resources, with live lobster generating anywhere from 400 to 600 million dollars in revenue per year. The last couple years have been tougher with catches lower than usual. He said the catch we pulled in that Wednesday was good for an average year. Dale said prices for live lobster were low now, but he still seemed optimistic. Like many fisherman, Dale counts on the various fishing seasons throughout the year. Lobster season opens in mid November and closes mid January, and then scallop season begins and others follow. Canada's fishing industry is important to the many maritimers throughout New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, PEI and Newfoundland who depend on the fish and lobster each year.
During my time here I've experienced a lobster "feed" a couple of times. I think it takes some getting used to. For any who have yet to experience it, eating lobster is interesting and messy work. If done right it tastes great, and the experience quite unforgettable. Here are a few pictures from the day on the boat and also one from from our lobster feed earlier this year.
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