February 21st, 2016
Today I ran into an old friend at the Y after 3 miles of agony on the track… Father Bill Teska, an Episcopal Priest of my vintage who is somewhat of a legend in the Twin Cities. Bill’s been involved in so many projects he’s lost count (his middle name is outreach). We talked for a minute about a brilliant friend who worked with us on a project to reclaim an historic church in downtown Minneapolis and convert it into a home for community projects. Turns out the guy has kind of fallen off the map and Bill’s worried about him… he has a serious drinking problem which hasn’t kept him from a career as a senior arbiter for the environment in Washington D.C. and around the world but it’s taken a toll.
Like all of us, he’s a broken vessel and he knows it
Every day we have to do a check in with ourselves and see if we’re in touch with the humanness and if we’ve allowed it to be a bridge to people or a disability. If I’m trying to do the “love” thing in prisons or in the neighborhood it’s actually empowering to tap into my vulnerability as a “hope” exhibit … hope that is greater than my tendency to sabotage myself.
Hope is a force that helps me avoid old traps because when I’m moving with it, I’m vital and I have a place to set my standard and from where I can venture into the Light zone with my friends and neighbors. This comes from the mouth of someone who made an art form out of what I thought was a righteous rage / God took a prophet of doom and made him a healer / go figure. Life’s meant to be lived with joy, not crippled by a fearful mind.