Yesterday’s readings in the Daily Office brought me back around to Psalm 16. If I didn’t already use the first part of Psalm 27 on test days in class, I’d probably start using chunks of this one. It “works” on a number of different levels: devotional, confessional, Christological.
16:1 Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge. 2 I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you.”
3 As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones, in whom is all my delight.
4 The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply; their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out or take their names on my lips.
5 The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot. 6 The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.
7 I bless the Lord who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me. 8 I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.
9 Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices; my flesh also dwells secure. 10 For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol, or let your holy one see corruption.
11 You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.
This time last week I was driving back to Fresno after staying the night in the Yosemite valley floor. I’d been trying to get to Yosemite since some dear friends moved to the area over a year ago. This time, things worked out. And with encouragement from another friend, I stayed one evening in Curry Village.
The trip started with a late morning drive from Fresno with my friends and an itinerary made by my friend. The drive up (and down, actually) was beautiful. And long. So when we finally made it to the Tunnel View stop, I was both amazed and relieved. The view was as beautiful as I had hoped. From there, we drove past Bridalveil Falls and into the valley floor. We parked one of our two vehicles at Curry Village and made our way to Yosemite Lodge for some rental bikes. The rest of the afternoon was spent biking around the valley floor, where we ultimately ended up at Mirror Lake (which was neither thanks to the autumn weather). From there we made our way back to YL, dropped off our bikes, and drove back to Curry Village for a pizza dinner. My friends went with me to check in and check out my lodging for the night: a one-bed vinyl tent on a wooden platform with a metal locker outside for food and other things that might attract local bears. At that point, my friends left and I did my best to settle in for the night. I did some walking around that that point, checking out the general store and the communal lodge with its porch and comfy seating. I wanted to see as much of the quiet night sky as I could, but everywhere I went I found talking people, cars still pulling in for the night, and flashlights shining in all directions. Ah well. I did get a better sense of the quiet night sky when I woke up to tip-toe to the communal bathroom after midnight.
The next morning started with a decent amount of sleep achieved. I cleaned the tent up some and made my way to the lodge for breakfast: biscuits and gravy, eggs, and some Lucky Charms (a pleasant mixture of what I would usually eat at a camp). I checked out of the tent and then made my way by foot to Vernal Falls. It was quite the hike, but the view was worth it. After making my way back to the lodge, I took a cherry Coke break and then took the free shuttle to a few different sites in the valley: the Ahwahnee Hotel, lower Yosemite Falls, and finally the El Capitan Meadows. The meadows ended up being my favorite location, both because there were very few people there and because it had lots of trees along with the river.
At that point, I was pretty wiped out. I had thought about ending my trip with a visit to Glacier Point (at the suggestion of my friend), but after starting on the winding road out of the valley, I decided that I wouldn’t stop until I was somewhere in Oakhurst (a town between Yosemite and Fresno). I have to admit: I’m no fan of winding mountain roads without railing on the side.
Looking back, I think that Yosemite is more of a two-night stay. I got a decent amount of site-seeing in. And while the tent wasn’t the most comfortable sleeping arrangement ever, it also wasn’t that bad. There’s also something cool about “village life,” as loud and flashlight-happy as everyone seemed to be. It would’ve been nice having a “place to land” in-between hikes.
Yosemite is beautiful, and the valley itself is so engaging that sometimes you forget to look up and see the mountains around you. I can’t imagine being there at the height of the summer season when things are super-crowded. The “random Thursday in October” crowd was more than enough for me. Not sure I’ll ever get back. Either way, I’m really glad I was able to make the trip. Beautiful places are great, and I’m glad to visit them when I can.
And just like that, the first quarter of the new school year is over. It’s amazing how time flies.
I’m also amazed at how little I posted over the last few weeks of the quarter. There are a few reasons for that, I suppose, but nothing really work making note of at this point in time. It was a good quarter, but it was also a busy one. And I’m not quite done . . . I need to take care of grades today and prep a little today and tomorrow before heading to the West Coast for a few days.
+ + + + + + +
I did finish Katherine Rundell’s Impossible Creatures just as the break came to an end. I highly recommend the book. In some ways it’s more Wingfeather Saga than Harry Potter, though maybe that’s not the best descriptor. Rundell does a great job of bringing in layers of backstory without weighing things down. The characters are enjoyable (though surprisingly expendable), and you get to know them just enough. Rundell also creates a fun framework for the magical creatures of the world. So there’s lots of storytelling potential for the second book, which drops this time next year. What I’m most surprised about, though, is that this could easily have been a done-on-one novel and been perfect. Rundell ends the book in something of a risky way. A complete story, just risky. That’s all I can say.
+ + + + + + +
I’m now a few chapters in on the new Rivers of London novella, The Masquerades of Spring. The story follows a younger Thomas Nightingale to America and the Jazz Age. I’m enjoying the book, though I was really hoping that Nightingale would narrate the story. He’s one of the most endearingly enigmatic characters in fiction for me.
+ + + + + + +
This feels like a very unplanned break for me. I don’t have a stack of books to read. At this point, it’s likely that I’ll revisit some Erik Varden as well as the last quarter of C. S. Lewis’s Mere Christianity. Varden because he has something vital to say about my own place in life (in a way) and Lewis because we don’t cover much of the final quarter of MC in my spring class and I really feel the need to reread it after it got some airplay in Fred Sanders’s Deep Things of God).
+ + + + + + +
As I mentioned at the beginning of the post, I’m planning on heading to the West Coast for a few days. I found a cheap ticket and have good friends to stay with. My big hope, though, it getting to spend the night in the Yosemite valley floor. I’ve wanted to go there since my friends moved to that part of the states, but it hasn’t worked out until now. So I’ll land and them make my way east to Yosemite. I’m grateful to live in a beautiful place, but I also long to see other beautiful places, big places. And Yosemite fits the bill. (I’ve also got a friend who has visited there often and has put together a nice little suggested-itinerary for me, for which I am grateful.)
+ + + + + + +
These last few weeks I’ve been blessed by the music of Brother Isaiah of the Franciscan Friars of the Renewal. Here’s the lyric video to a song I found myself thinking about a lot yesterday, “Holy Hunger.”
Yesterday I shared a quote from Impossible Creatures by Katherine Rundell. Today I’d like to share a Wendell Berry quote (from his book The Gift of Good Land) that I came across via Hadden Turner’s Substack. Turner is an agrarian and writer living in England. The quote:
The most necessary thing in agriculture, for instance, is not to invent new technologies or methods, not to achieve “breakthroughs,” but to determine what tools and methods are appropriate to specific people, places, and needs and apply them correctly.
This quote resonates with me as both a Christian and a teacher, too. There’s something about locality that matters, something about the specific, that this quote captures particularly well. Makes me want to dig up my copy of the book.
I recently (and temporarily) put aside my re-read of The Silmarillion for a reading of Katherine Rundell’s Impossible Creatures. The book has a lot of buzz (and fans) across the Atlantic. When a co-worker put the book on my radar, I thought it would be worth the possibility. As I write this, I’m about 80 pages in and loving it. It’s a lot like the Wingfeather series while still being something all its own (and wonderfully rooted in our own world . . . via Scotland). Here’s my favorite quote so far:
Some sentences have the power to change everything. There are the usual suspects: I love you, I’m pregnant, I’m dying, I regret to tell you that this country is at war. But the words with the greatest power to create both havoc and marvels are these:
Yesterday also marked the 20th anniversary of the premiere of LOST on ABC. Official premiere, that is. If I remember correctly, because I was there, the first two episodes of the show actually premiered a few days before down in Waikiki. There were food trucks. There were ABC gifts (like hand-held fans) and LOST-specific gifts (I still have my season one cast picture and my “I’d Rather Be LOST” license plate holder). It was a great evening, and a nice picture of how the show would contribute to my own life on the island for the show’s duration.
To mark the occasion, The Ringer did a nice piece of “the nine biggest loose ends” from the show. I didn’t remember all of them, but at some point the show stopped being primarily about the island’s secrets for me. Entertainment Weekly put a few pieces together, too. Here’s there list of the top ten episodes from the show. Here’s a “where are they now” piece about most of the main cast members. Here’s a long piece by Jeff Jensen about his own relationship with the show, particularly in his role as “the guy trying to put the pieces together.” And here’s Dalton Ross’s piece defending the series finale, which I agree is much better than many fans give it credit for.
I was hanging out with some neighbors a few nights ago, before the 20th anniversary, and our conversation turned to LOST. I asked them if they had seen the official “epilogue” of the show; they said they had not. For those who might have missed it, here you go:
Finally, I still bring LOST up in class at least once a year. True, my students hadn’t been born when the show premiered (and they have little to no sense of it, which makes me sad), but the first five minutes of the pilot episode set up a great ethical dilemma: if you were Jack, what would you do next?
Last week Amazon Prime dropped one final trailer for The Rings of Power. Hard to believe I haven’t posted it yet.
And, of course, a trailer-watching experience isn’t complete without a nice “breakdown” from the Nerd of the Rings. Glad he’s thinking that one character isn’t Saruman. I’d like to hope that, too.
For me, Laity Lodge is like an airlock between different environments and periods of time.
My first trip to the Lodge (you can see a picture of it from across the Frio River in the photostream to the right) back in 2018 was amazing beyond imagining. The two speakers (Jamie Smith and Alan Jacobs) were teachers who had seriously informed my thoughts on teaching Christianly. The place had some mystique because I had only heard and read about it. And it was everything I could have hoped for a more.
When I returned in the summer of 2022, I was exhausted and ready to put a particularly demanding time of work and church behind me. A couple of good things came from the retreat: I read Adam Neder’s Theology as a Way of Life and also found myself listening more to the music of Jill Phillips, who I’d been listening two for almost two decades but whose most recent album I hadn’t spent much time with. Some good rest and healing came from that trip to the Lodge.
This summer I returned on more time because Adam Neder (see the previous paragraph) was going to be one of the speakers and the topic was friendship, something I care a lot about. Alas, Neder couldn’t make the retreat because of health issues, but that was okay because the Lodge itself is a blessing (as are the staff and the attendees). Like the second trip, the third visit was a time to put a window of time to rest, to make an intentional release of things I had been trying to understand and make peace with. (You can read more about that here.)
Laity has been like an airlock between two vastly different spaceships for me. Twice not is has been a place for reflection and rest that can be difficult to find in any other (often busy) Christian setting. It’s nice to catch a breath, and to be at a place designed to help with just that. The staff at the Lodge have perfected hospitality and the joy of presence, which is a rare gift.
The weekend’s worship was led by Taylor Leonhardt, who often sings with Mission House. On the last evening, everyone walked down to the Cody Center for a concert, which was great because Taylor is a great storyteller and a great songwriter. Here’s a clip of one of the songs she sang that night (though the video clip is from a concert at The Local Show).
I’m not sure when I’ll get back to the Lodge, though I go there often in my thoughts. I’m grateful for the time I’ve gotten to spend there, to walk and pray and sing and talk to others. Not a perfect place mind you. But definitely a great place for a stop along the journey, a great airlock between different worlds.
We’re well into the new school year, and it’s been some time since I posted anything particularly personal/reflective. That’s not for a lack of reflection, mind you. The absence has been from finding the right place to write from.
The summer went really well. Just was spent on-island. Besides a few hiccups in power and infrastructure, those days were wonderfully consistent. My 9 days in Tennessee went well: a good time with family and friends that had a good, helpful flow (and it helped that the weather stayed nice). My time in Texas went well: one night in Kerrville and then three nights at Laity Lodge. Once again, the weather was great . . . for summer in Texas. I ended up staying an extra night in Austin because of flight issues, so that Sunday evening felt a bit like a Douglas Coupland novel about to be written: nondescript hotel near an airport with some DoorDashed Sonic and some Ted Lasso reruns. When I got back, the neighborhood was quiet . . . by my second evening back almost everyone on the lane was traveling. But there was some socializing along with an attempt to return to routine that was nice. And then, just like that, school was back on.
I’m not sure what twenty-two years at a job is supposed to feel like. Every year is a little different, which is true for this year as much as any other. Classes have gone well: this week is our first set of tests, which is always something of a landmark in the semester. And the administrative side of things has been mostly fine, too. I did spend a chunk of Friday’s holiday in the classroom getting ready for the week ahead, though. It’s the kind of thing that pays off in the long run.
This last weekend itself was pleasantly productive. All the pieces of the regular routine plus some much-needed yard work as well as a chance to catch Alien: Romulus with a friend. The Friday-time in the classroom definitely took off some of the pressure, which was nice. Church was fine, consistent in its own way. And then this morning was back to a five-day week routine.
+ + + + + + +
All of that to say that getting back into the swing of things hasn’t been too easy. In fact, there have been a few frustrating moments. Part of that is the rush of things, of things going from zero to sixty in a moment because that’s how vacations come to an end. Some of that you can contain, can prepare for. But there’s always a good bit that is beyond your ability to predict and prepare for. But I did come to a realization of sorts:
Sometimes forgetting is the only way forward.
Too often systems aren’t dynamic enough to absorb certain kinds of wisdom or learning or change, and so you either snap back or you snap off. You all but force yourself to forget what you’ve learned in order to survive, to sync back up with the flow of things. I don’t recommend this, of course, and I definitely don’t believe it should be necessary. But sometimes it feels that way. We shouldn’t have to forget in order to move forward.
+ + + + + + +
Here’s my favorite song from the summer. It’s from Mission House’s live album. They definitely have a style that I like, though I’m not sure it is reproducible in most churches.
+ + + + + + +
I’ve got a list of things to try and write about this week. Some thoughts on Laity Lodge, some reflections on ideas from Seth Godin, and, of course, some reflections on The Rings of Power before next week’s premiere. Maybe a few other things will pop up, too.
The season two premiere of The Rings of Power is about two weeks away. To whet the appetites of viewers, Amazon and composer Bear McCreary have released to musical track for Tom Bombadil, a character Tolkien fans have wanted to see in movies and television for a while. Check it out.
Bombadil also got a good mention in this recent post by Matt Webb, where he writes about how some fictional characters both break and complete their imaginary worlds. Webb also mentions one chapter of The Wind in the Willows- one of two chapters in that book that were so beautiful they were heartbreaking.
The jury is still out on the finished product of Prime’s Bombadil. Here’s hoping he fits into the story well and isn’t just glorified fan-fiction.