Why I'm Not Blogging as Much: A Summer Update

Work Stress

I think it was Anne Lamott who first posited the question: Is life too short to be minding shit, or is life too short to be taking shit? My mental and emotional tides have vacillated from one side to the other in trying to answer this question about stuff going on at good old Barnes and Noble. To briefly fill you in...Within the course of six weeks my job has switched from being the best ever to being just another corporation that seeks to bleed the life out of the souls of individuals and communities by elevating numbers and corporate speak (read: bullshit) over the values of trust and common decency. Was that kind enough?

So when I get home from work, I'm usually trying to find something that would keep my mind off of it. There are things aplenty to help me out...

Tom's New House

My roommate has just purchased a new house and has been kind enough to let me live with him until he gets married sometime next year. It's got a lot of work to be done, so I've been, and will be, spending a lot of time doing yard work and painting and sanding floors... You know, the typical handyman type work you think of when you hear the name Craig Nash. It'll be fun stuff, though, and I'm looking forward to learning things that may be helpful if I decide to purchase a home anytime soon.

I'm sure going to miss this place on Austin Avenue, though. I've lived here 3 1/2 years and it has been a very pivotal time in my life. I think I've become a real adult in this house moreso than in any other place I've lived.

Church Stuff

Renovations
As you all know we've been out of the building on Dutton since the end of October. It's been a good time to create some space from the accident and get our bearings, but it's finally about time to return. Although I haven't helped a lot, some of my time has been spent doing a little cleanup work. We will move back into the building July 16.

Creative Liturgy Project

The David Crowder Band isn't the only segment of our church that oozes talent. There's been a group of UBC'ers meeting on Wednesday nights for what we are calling the Creative Liturgy Project. The CLP is an opportunity to create a body of work that includes art, prayers, reflections, devotional writings, and songs that are written for, and are a reflection of, our corporate life of a community of faith. And my word, some of the things being shared in that group are things for the ages. I've so glad to be a part of something so meaningful.

Sno Cones on Monday Nights

Enough said

The Kids

My Monday afternoon and evenings are spent with the Lake kids and this is the anchor to my week, my greatest joy.

Me and My Gang
(Love the Rascal Flatts reference?)

I have been so fortunate to be able to spend a lot of time with a group of people from church who have been my communal salvation. You know who you are, and if you don't, you should. You all make me smile and laugh and remember everything that makes the life of faith worth living. I love how one member of the group is never afraid to state the obvious: That it doesn't get any better than this.

And you don't look down on me when I can only make it a lap and a half.

_____________________________
Since it may be a while before I update, let me tell you what is going in my ears and through my brain.

Listening to:
Brad Paisley's Time Well Wasted. (Paisley has become my favorite artist.)
David Crowder's B Collision. (The only album that has ever reflected on an event that happened in my personal life. Extremely moving, but difficult at times to listen to.)

Reading:
The Sex Lives of Cannibals
The Waco Tribune Herald
Newsweek

Watching:

Reruns of Texas Country Reporter
The Today Show

Eating:

Uncle Dan's
La Fiesta (Home of the Ultimate Margarita)
Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches

4-1-06/ Mid to Late Afternoon

Rather than walking to the store I decided to drive instead. When I got to the park entrance I decided that since I've already gotten in the car, I might as well go for a drive into Uncertain. (Uncertain, TX is the name of the tiny town Caddo Lake is near.) As I scanned through the radio I was reminded of what this area is made of. Throw in a huge handful of country music and a dash each of ultra right wing talk radio and Black Pentecostal Gospel and you have yourself Northeast Texas.

There's a church on the County Road going into Uncertain that I'm thinking of visiting. It appears to be a church designed for visitors to the state park. The vinyl lettering on the wooden sign has worn off but I believe it said it was nondenominational. I'm interested in finding out exactly what nondenomination it is.

Corey may join me tomorrow night. I told him I'd call him today to finalize plans. Right now, however, my cell phone, which was fully charged last night is fully dead now. I think it worked too hard searching for a signal out here. Since I have no electricity I'll have to find an outlet and I think the only one around is in the restroom down the path. I may wait until tomorrow to worry about that.

Right now I'm going to begin reading Luke and Acts before I pick up the Rapture of Canaan, the one fiction I brought along with me on recommendation of Pat.

4-1-06/ Evening

As I drove through Marshall yesterday getting here I wondered what it was about this area that keeps calling me back. Of course there are several reasons. I went to college and really became an adult in Marshall. It was there I made some of my closest friends. Of course my mom is from Carthage and that is where my grandparents lived. But there is hardly anyone left in this place that would beckon me. All I have is memory.

And yet I feel there is more. The thing I love is where and when I am right now-- outside on a Saturday night. It's quiet but the silence here is so much more than an absence of sound. It's the presence of a feeling. Indeed, a feeling of being fully alive, apart from all the bells and whistles and accoutrements society says you need to be fully alive.

No need to be anywhere but here.

No need for words to pollute the beauty.

Just here.

This is where I'd be if a handful of people in Waco hadn't hijacked my heart and held it hostage in Central Texas for the past six years.

4-11-06/ Around 1:00 p.m.

Earlier I checked my car clock because I was curious of the time. I thought it was probably around 2:30, but it was only noon. That's a weird feeling.

I did go for a walk but didn't make it to the store. Instead I went along one of the nature trails that are in the park. It was a great walk in which I was reminded how much more humid it is here than in Central Texas.

Read some more then made a lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwich with Pringles.

Nouwen's book is reminding me why I'm doing this: Silence. Here are some quotes I've underlined:

* Silence is solitude practiced in action.
* Our heightened verbal ability, which enables us to make distinctions, has sometimes become a poor substitute for a single-minded commitment to the word who is life.
* Silence is the home of the word.
* Ideas of value always shun verbosity.
* Sometimes it seems that our many words are more an expression of our doubt than of our faith. (I love that one.)
* We have become so contaminated by our wordy world that we hold the deceptive opinion that our words are more important than our silence.
________________________

I'm wondering if I should go on with this path of journaling my time here or if I should start working more on book stuff.

I also feel the possibility that I'm treating this as an escape, rather than a retreat. The thought of Kyle's death, while horrible enough in the world in which I live, is almost unbearable without all the props of people and other distractions.

4-1-06/ Morning
I came back here and put on a fire to heat up water for coffee and oatmeal. Not wanting to spend money on fancy camping equipment I purchased two aluminum cups and paper bowls. The larger cup would be used to heat the water which would be used for instant coffee in the smaller cup and oatmeal in the bowl. It took quite a while for the water to heat up, but I have nothing but time. The oatmeal turned out great, but I made the coffee way too strong, especially since I'm doing without my regular additions of sweetener and cream-- and I put in two scoops of instant Folgers instead of the recommended one.

After eating I read a little from Nouwen.

I'm suspecting that since I have been without anything to tell time since yesterday that it has been always earlier than what I think.

I'm tired and contemplating whether or not I need a post-breakfast nap or to walk to the little country store a couple of miles up the road to purchase a better cup of coffee than the one I just threw in the fire.

4-1-06/ Morning

I chose the nap and I'm glad. I have no clue how long I was out, but it felt like hours. I awoke to a sky that has cleared slightly, revealing the sun. I'm guessing the time is around 10:00 a.m.

4-1-06/ Mid to Late Morning

The sounds of the forest have healing powers.

My original neighbors, the father and son, left the campsite while I was taking my nap. They have left all their stuff out for the world to see, reassuring me that I can probably leave as well and not worry about my stuff being stolen. Not quite sure why I'm concerned with that, since I have nothing of worth.

As I sat down to read my neighbors on the other side (the truck that was there when I woke up this morning) began stirring. A young couple-- possibly college students. Away from civilization in the bed of a truck, deep in the forest. I'll call them Jack and Diane. I kept my back to them so they didn't see the ETBU shirt I'm wearing. If they are ETBU students they probably feel enough shame over their overnight activities.

I think I will take a walk up to that country store to purchase some hand soap.

I was under the impression there were showers somewhere in the park, but I guess I was wrong. I will arrive in Atlanta, TX on Monday a very dirty individual.

Earlier I walked down the path to the restrooms and was reminded that CLSP is, in fact, a park and quite a few people make use of it. There are families in canoes and young people with picnic things. It is a beautiful day.

4-1-06/ (?)

I've never been camping without the night being an endless cycle of waking up and wondering where the sun could possibly be, lingering awake for minutes? hours?, until sleep sneaks up on me. Tonight is no different. The only thing that has changed is that I've never done this alone. In the past there was always the option of saying "You Awake?" to break up the night.

When you are alone in the wilderness every sound and every flash of light means something, and typically you think it's for you alone.

I have no clue the time, but I assume those out here to fish will begin rustling soon. Fishermen pull pretty early hours.

4-1-06/ Sunrise-ish

East Texas sunrises can be a tricky thing. It's not the glorious crescendo of an event you experience in places west of here where a lack of tall trees leaves no question to the sun's intentions. Rather, it plays a guessing game with you. It's daylight, to be sure, but the sun is nowhere to be found. Is it behind the clouds or under the treeline, or still waiting over the horizon? I feel I will find out soon enough.

Sometime during the night I was joined by another neighbor (or neighbors?) on the other side of me. They did not set up a tent but slept in the bed of their small Ford Pick-Up.

I'll sit on the pier a little longer trying to figure out the rhythm of the birdsong-- measuring the silence between each chirp and gurgle, until my stomach tells me I need to head back to camp and make breakfast.

Craig In The Woods...

3-31-06/ Around Sunset

I called Caddo Lake State Park (from now on to be referred to as CLSP) this morning at 8:00 when their offices opened to make sure there would be a camping site available for me. The lady said there was no availability all weekend long. To be honest, part of me was a little relieved. I automatically thought of people I could call in the Metroplex to spend the first part of my vacation visiting.

I then remembered why I decided to spend the weekend camping-- To get away from the noise. Neither Dallas nor Ft. Worth is a good enough place to do that, so I decided to not give up. I called different campsites at Lake O' the Pines to see if they had spots, which they did. LOTP is a beautiful place located just a few miles from Caddo on the other side of Jefferson. But nothing beats the mystique Caddo Lake has for me, so I called back to CLSP to see if they at least had a site open for Sunday Night. I would spend the first two days at LOTP and the last night at Caddo. The second time I called the secretary she said they did in fact have tent sites for the weekend. She previously thought I was wanting an RV site. So she signed me up.

My plan was to work until 1:00, go to see the Field's adoption ceremony, then jet. But the quietness called me and I could wait no longer. I left work at 11:00 a.m., was on the road by 1:00 and made it here around 5:00. (I took the long way to avoid small town cops seeing everything on my car that is expired.)

I'll write more about the journey here when the sun comes up. It is now dark and I am writing by the glow of a flashlight. I'd like to put the artificial light away and sit in front of the flickering embers of my hastily assembled campfire, on my camping chair I purchased today at the Bellmead H-E-B. (I'm in the woods, but I am in no way roughing it Thoreau-style.)

The East Texas crickets are making their usual heavenly racket. I have neighbors. A middle aged man and his young son probably age 5. This will bring grief to mind, I'm sure, for obvious reasons. But I will deal with it.

The plan: Sit here until I'm tired-- finishing the bottle of shiner and cannister of Pringles I've been working on. Tomorrow I'll wake up and go for a walk. I think there are some ETBU students down the path a bit. Perhaps I'll pay them a visit and play the "Do you know" game. The first book I plan on working through is Nouwen's The Way of the Heart: Connecting with God through Prayer, Wisdom, and Silence.

3-31-06/ Sometime between 8:00 and 10:00 p.m.

I am nowhere close to being New Years Eve 2003 drunk, but four bears in three hours will make you feel quite nice.

My fire kept dying when I wanted to stay up longer. When I was ready for bed it reached deeper into the density of the large logs and pulled a long sustained flame for longer than I could stand. I could have stayed up for hours more or I could have retreated to my tent. I chose the latter.

I prayed the famous prayer while look up through the tall cypress and pine-- "Lord I believe, Help though my unbelief." What a beautiful dichotomy. I believe but I don't and when I don't, help me.

Sometimes I talk as if I believe, but my heart screams otherwise. Help.

3-31-06/ probably around 10:00 p.m.

I almost fell asleep then had an uncontrollable urge to pee. I went out and urinated. Toward the end of it I realized I was holding my flashlight wedged between my chin and my neck and the light was exposing my weiner to anyone who would care to see. Four beers in three hours makes you do things like that. Evidently, it also makes you refer to your penis as a "weiner." I guess that's the science of the hops.

3-31 or 4-1/ Around midnight?

I had to get up to pee again. This time I was more careful with the light.

As secluded a place this is, I am still relatively close to civilization. There's a state highway less than two miles from where I am and I can hear the soft hum of car engines. I wonder where these people are going and coming from. Logging Trucks, perhaps. People coming home from using and being used. Maybe an emergency and they are trying to get to Marshall or Shreveport.

I hear the highway not because it is so loud, but because there is a circle of quiet around me. If it weren't for the air conditioner and television and hum of a dozen things electric, I'd probably be hearing cars all the time.

My tent is about 50 yards from the water and a stirring in the lake reminds me this is alligator country. I arm myself with the knowledge of a thousand Discover Channel Specials: That most animals do not attack unless provoked. I'm doing everything in my power not to provoke.