Thursday, August 14, 2014

Between a rock and a hard place. And pineapples.


First day without Danielle and I feel a sense of loss and depression. Thankfully, Leila is here to fill in and it’s not so completely alone.

Nan has come in to drop off checks and pick up checks. And just chat awhile. We work out details with Leila to keep the flow of business going.

Sean has wheeled up with a number of storage containers. I’m looking to downgrade, he says. I think, meaning downsize, but….So I let him in and he sets to work. Moving things from his many bags into plastic containers. I tell him that the storage facility asked if the church was going to be paying. Nah, man, nah…that’s not what they say…He thinks a minute. Ah, that’s on me. And so he sets to work.
Walking down the street to catch the subway, I’m greeted by Dan the architect and Becky his assistant heading to the church  for a walk through with Pat.

When I get back, Sean is still at it. David, who was suspicious yesterday, has joined the project. I ask what happened at his place. Ah man, I couldn’t deal with it. Too much…I…

What about the new place you thought you had?

…Ah man…

Back in the office, RL stops in. Yesterday, he made his farewell to Danielle. Brought her a pineapple and a bottle of champagne. The pineapple was a 19thg century sign of return. A seafarer’s would give his wife a pineapple who would impale on the doorpost, meaning the man  of the house is home, and we are receiving visitors.  It came from the Caribs, who used it as a sign if welcome. When Spanish explorers saw it in front of a village, they knew they were safe. So it became a symbol of welcome.

I grew up only knowing canned pineapple rings and not being too excited by that. Didn’t like them in fact. Then one day, when I went to Puerto Rico, there was a fresh pineapple on my balcony table. And a knife. I opened it up, cut a slice and…like I had never really known pineapple before. So throughout my years of work in Central America, every breakfast had a fresh pineapple. It’s something I like to share with guests to my home.

RL was saying that Danielle had come home after a three year voyage with us. (About the length of a whaling voyage…) And would now begin a new voyage. Outside, Sean is leaving. His chair is stuck in the doorway. David helps him out.

He stops, I don’t know man. No place to go. (For me, all my connections for him are across burned bridges. I’ve got no one else to call…) Maybe I need to go upstate…Go away. Somewhere else. I don't know…I…anyways, thanks….and he wheels his chair down the street.

That man is stuck between a rock and a hard place, says David.

Late in the day, John H stops in. He saw my comment about the institutional church being over. Wants to pursue that a bit. Eventually asks and the theology? 
Maybe. Depends. 
And the foundational texts?
No. I know where he’s coming from and understand his perspective. But the Bible’s not going away yet. It’s become it’s own Taoist hexagram may now. You read through it to a deeper place. Whatever it was or has been, it’s now it’s own prism through which worlds can be viewed. It has become it’s own real creation. And we talk about Mario. And context versus a post modernist deconstructed sense of text. And how songs have their own meaning beyond their words and touch us in a deeper place. We talk about the Wild Goose people. And then young seekers. And Deadheads. And ex-Christian secular radical in search ofs….the whole landscape. The seeds of what is being born. And he offers to help facilitate a gathering to sort it all through. Or at least a directed conversation.

So we’ll put out a pineapple.

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