Daniel Rose

If you're at all like me, you rest very little. You work a bit too much. Your mind never stops running and you are always thinking days, weeks, months, and years in the future.

Today it is cold.

It is so cold, that everything is shut down. Schools, churches, County offices, all closed. I have a home office and it is my normal place to work. Yet, today I'm forcing myself to take a bit of a snow day.

Every once in a while we need to find down time. We need to rest. We need to try and shut down our minds and get quiet. So, I'm doing that today. I'm shutting down notifications, grabbing a book, and a cup of tea (chai if you're wondering), and I am going to rest.

When I'm engaging in a new community, one I'm building or newly joining, I am very aware of my lack of knowledge regarding norms. Norms in communities are essential to their health and well-being. The hard thing is that most often norms require storms.

What do I mean?

Norming and storming is the cycle of growth in communities. The initial folks gather and create norms. As others enter in there will be storms, conflict, and then new norms will be created. This process creates a spiral of depth in community.

Communities that seek to avoid conflict at all costs remain in a faux honeymoon. They never become all that they could be. Depth of relationship never grows.

In some reading this morning there was a line, “the earth we tread on will dissolve like the morning dawn.”

This struck me.

I live in the future. I find it very difficult to live in the moment and embody the here and now. The reality that the earth will one day dissolve like the morning dawn grabs my attention because it is a stark reminder that if I miss this moment, it is gone.

Embodying the moment, living here and now, understanding that all is vapor, therefore, enjoy the work, enjoy the play, enjoy life.

I recently spent time dwelling on Ecclesiastes and this is the same message that resonates there. We have but one life and it is a gift. What will we do with it? How will we live?

No.

What will I do with? How will I live?

Over the last 24 hours I have discovered a new social media platform, Mastodon. I have connected with it in ways that remind of Twitter when it first go going. I am connecting with new people and beginning to build relationships. I am so excited that there may be a space where I can process, connect, and share without the worry of the trolls. It's exciting!

In light of this, I have begun thinking about friendship. I am trying to allow myself to enter into what it means to have friends and connect. I am realizing that I need people more than I ever realized.

I have been a person that stuffs his feelings and emotions. When I was younger, I used to joke that I didn't have feelings. If people were in my way, I ran over them (metaphorically speaking, I don't have any hit and runs on my record). I kept folks at an arm's length because, because why?

Because I feared losing them.

So many people in my life have left. My father wound is that he left. He wasn't evil, or mean, or bad, he just left. Sure, he showed up every other weekend to take us to his house and occasionally showed up for a game or event. But, by and large, he left.

I don't want people to leave. My fear is that when people get to know me, really get to know me, they will leave. You can imagine how hard this has made building a marriage. I'm still working through that. My default is always to hide. It works that way with my kids too.

To be sure, I have had many breakthroughs with my wife and we have a healthy marriage. I am more open with her than anyone else in my life.

I have a couple friends that I can be this brutally with too.

As I enter into new relationships this old fear crops up. Will they leave?

You see, the thing about friends is that they show you who you really are and that's what makes friendship so beautiful and scary.

...click...

As I sit in front my laptop, there are no ideas in my mind. I am devoid of concepts to write about. As a pastor, I know that I can open my Bible and write about the Scriptures. I do that regularly.

It feels as though everything I want to write is derivative. I've already written it before. Or, someone else has written it and written it much better.

So, here I am.

I am staring at a blank screen and a blinking cursor on a clean blog platform. There is no history here. There are no other posts that are filling a backlog.

Just emptiness.

I will write here.

I guess it will be a journal of sorts.

Some days, it will be a sentence. Other days more.

But, I will write something and then click publish.

...click.