Emotional Mayhem

 I love the season of fall. I was blessed to live in a part of the country as a child and during college where fall was brilliantly clothed with shades of amber, crimson, mustard, and tangerine. The trees were so vibrant with a voice that daily sang the miraculous creation of our world.  Today, I live in the warm and sunny climate of southern California. I appreciate the lack of anything remotely resembling coldness. But I do miss the glorious days of fall and the crunch of leaves beneath my feet on long walks in the woods. There is something spectacular about the mystery of how God makes all things beautiful in their own way. I have similar feelings about the ocean. The sound of crashing waves billowing toward me always make me feel inspired and refreshed. The frothy water laps at my toes like the tongue of a puppy. I feel small when I am at the ocean just as I feel small surrounded by acres of trees in the mountains.  Nature brings me closer to God. It always has. In my finite wisdom

What makes people selfish? Are we selfish because we simply live in our own bodies and truly can't relate to what it means to be someone else? When I was very small, I used to look at my Daddy and my Mama wondering what it would be like to be them. I knew what it was like to be me. I had my own thoughts. I had my own worries and triumphs. But I honestly had no idea what it meant to be someone else. I can recall sitting in my Daddy's lap as a very young child with my ear firmly pressed to his chest listening to the beat of his heart. He had a different heart from me. It beat with a steady rhythm just like mine. Yet, my Daddy and my Mama did not live the same life I was living. We are all unique individuals, right? Yet, we are connected to other people through our different roles during the decades of our lives. We seem to be more selfish about the people we love and care about than someone who is a stranger or just a face on the news. We might foster moments of compassion and em

Gazing at the ocean is an activity of vast wonder and sublime beauty.  During a recent respite visit to our favorite local beach, I spent about ten minutes mesmerized by a precious hummingbird circling bushes of bright yellow flowers. This tiny creature would leave and return again in mere seconds dipping its long beak into the center of a blossom near my feet as I lazily sat in a beach chair. Sitting there with the sound of the ocean nearby and the scent of salt water helped me focus on being present in the moment. This moment blocked out any intrusive thoughts or plans in my typically overloaded brain. I peered curiously at something so small and yet so effective and determined. That hummingbird flew away, but just kept returning.  I wondered what lesson I could learn here on this glorious and uncomplicated beach where this little hummingbird enjoyed an existence of nature and nurture. How small it appeared in such a vast universe, and yet, how perfectly provided for by nature. I fel