Wednesday, March 23

A thought:

Do we have "spiritual senses" that correspond to our physical senses? Or are our physical senses deeper than we ever realized? Or are they both one thing that's different from what we usually imagine?

For instance:

I have always envied the people I know who have long conversations with God. My conversations always seem to end up very one-sided, with me desperately trying to listen to God, and never being able to distinguish His voice from all the other floating around in my head.

But then, one day, when I was trying harder than usual to listen, and getting nowhere, I was hit with a very specific thought: I can't hear. I've never heard well. I have a very difficult time listening to classical music because I simply do not distinguish sounds well. It's not that my physical hearing is bad, it's just that my brain isn't wired to process sound very well. With practice, I can attend to music and sound a little better, but it's not natural for me.

But seeing is. I'm very visually acute; symbolic colors and images are very much a second language to me, and I speak it fluently. Almost all of my major communications from God have been in the form of image or story. I have "visual conversations," for lack of a better term, all the time. It's not that God hasn't been telling me things; He has. But He's been silent, because I do not hear well.

So again, do our physical senses correspond to spiritual senses(or metaphysical senses, if you like) ? Are they both part of one thing?

Tuesday, March 22

Why did we stop talking to people?

Most people in any given department store won't talk to, or even look at, the janitorial staff, or the stockroom staff.

At my former library job, I'm not sure how many of the student workers took the time to talk to Tony or Richard, the copier repair guys. Did they even know their names?

My roommate, who is in a Figurative Drawing class, tells me that the prof generally doesn't talk to the models and the students rarely hear their names.

In my drawing class, I was fortunate to have a professor who insisted on talking to the models, getting to know them, and encouraging the students to do the same. As a result, we all walked away with a fondness of the models, and a profound respect for them. The prospect of looking at them "objectively" bothers me. Can I actually draw Carlos without caring about his love of photography? Can I protray Erl without smiling at his quirky sense of humor? Can I sketch Donna without knowing her regality and nobility? I might draw the forms accurately, but they will have no soul.

All people carry the Image of God, the Imago Dei. If I refuse to talk to some people just because they have a "lower" job than myself, what bit of the Image am I missing? If I ignore Krissy, I miss a sweetness and openness. If I ignore richard, I miss a pride in work done well and an honesty that is cutting but without malice. If I ignore Christian, I miss a humility and strength. But, most importantly, I miss a person. And no soul is too small to overlook; except, perhaps, those who have withered their own souls in the name of "objectivity."

Monday, March 21

Hope for Terri Schiavo

I have been remiss in not blogging about this fight. There are several reasons for that, but I won't go into them now.

The important thing is that Terri has hope now.

The government is finally fighting to protect one of its own innocent citizens. Mrs. Schiavo has done nothing wrong except getting married to a slimeball who is trying to murder her--despite the fact that her mother is willing and able to care for her--while living with his current girlfriend.

If the government wants to kill one of its citizens, then there's a prime target.

But now there's hope for Terri, and hope for anyone who doesn't want the government--or even their doctor!-- to decide whether they live or die. I hope that I never have to be given "heroic medical treament," and I hope that whoever was with me in that situation would know that I don't support it, and am willing for nature to take its course.

But food and water, even when given through a feeding tube, are not heroic treatment. Would Terri die without the feeding tube? Yes. But anyone would die without food!

I had an acquaintance in childhood who got VERY sick, and had to be on a feeding tube. Just because she couldn't feed herself, should we kill her?

Terri is responsive, and seems to be at least a little bit aware of what is happening to her. But even if she wasn't, who are we to decide that her life is not worth living? She's not in pain, and has people who love her. We can have no judgement about it.

And ultimately, even Terri herself has no right to decide to end her own life. Because the life is not her own, it is a gift. If she cannot give life to herself, then she has no right to throw it away.

But fortunately, it looks like her right to life will be protected. Thanks be to God, someone stepped in and did something.