Posts Tagged ‘wise stuff’

Trash collects in known places  — at the base of walls that barrier its movements and in corners that corral it. Unwanted stuff —  dirt, litter, grime, dead leaves, dust, cat hair and lost insect parts — are commonly harbored underneath raised furniture, hidden in dark nooks under car seats, smothered below couch cushions and sanctuaried in small  crannies and  crevices throughout the earth.

This morning I swept the sidewalk along the east side my house. It always needs sweeping. Dead leaves congregate there, and dirt and bits of paper hold daily convocations there too. That side of my house is a trash convention.

Live anywhere long enough and in the same body for any length of time and you’ll know where to find rogue detritus — under the fingernails and hidden in the epidermal creases of all your lesser and minor planetoids, discrete entities and bio-creaveses.

And what about that which is not that? Where might one find something that doesn’t begged to be cleaned up, something that is fresh and new and bright-eyed and full of verve and laced with the gold vein of  future hope and direction.

Where might one find wisdom, that shifting, blowing, migrating essence of smart living?

One might find it, like one finds trash, in common places.

Wisdom shines from every fissure, riff,  nook, platform, roadway, open shelf and wide roof top of the earth.

Wisdom, says one ancient proverb, cries out from every corner.

I believe that. I see wisdom lurking in every experience, hiding within every challenge,  residing inside of the lining of every problem and taking wing within the potential musings of every person. But there is one place, I have noticed, that wise stuff tends to collect most. Within a breathing, heart pounding, dialoguing relationship with the source of all knowledge and wisdom.

Wisdom, the gold of smart living, is found first, second, third, fourth and every other number in the universal catalogue of  numbers —  natural, whole, interger, rational, irrational or imaginary — in God.

Want wisdom? Then ask God for it; go further, cry out to God for it!

Really want it? Then do not let up in this single, beautiful and too seldom actioned request: “God, will you waft wise bits of  smart thought and way down my mental sidewalks and into the tiny creases and crannies of my small brain?

Mind blowingly, He will.

Wise stuff is good stuff.

Last night I thought of all the good mayors in Mexico who have been murdered in the drug wars. Wow, tough their families and their towns.

Today I found myself fascinated by the ebook publishing phenomena. We read differently now, on Kindles and Nooks and ipads, and so I must think differently as a reader, a print consumer and a writer.

I love to notice it, life, the changes, and think about how to respond.

It comes to me more and more, that to be wise is to realize that nothing in life is unworthy of my attention. Nothing is mere background. Everything qualifies as meriting focus.

I ache for it. All who want to know do  —  new experiences, fresh observations, other interpretations, possible theories, startling conclusions, needed disambiguations of the everyday and familiar and miraculous too.

Wise acknowledges it all, the supernatural and the  human.

The other day a college aged girl told me that she eventually dumped all boys because they simply, in the end, didn’t measure up to her high standards. She said it, then said she didn’t want to be like that anymore.

Why? She realized that her perfectionism was sabotaging perfectly good opportunities for friendships. Bingo. Get wiser, be more tolerant.

In the 17th Century Fenelon had this figured out, noting that perfection is the only thing perfectly tolerant of imperfection. Whoohoo! Good! Nice!  People so misjudge the judgments of the ultimate judge by thinking him mainly judgmental in nature.

And the  wise girl get it as she  is interested it all,  in shadows on her backyard fence and in the shadowy projection of her own desire to be perfect onto others.  A trophy boyfriend; the secure woman doesn’t need it.

Here is the deal; to get wise  is to get fascinated with oneself and everything within ones imperfect realm.

Eugene Peterson, in his introduction to the wisdom literature of The Message  version of the Bible comments that “Wisdom insists that, “nothing in human experience can be omitted or slighted.”

So wisdom literature, the psalms and proverbs, take on all topics and all particulars that wisdom can think of.  Wisdom is fascinated by both the large idea of  science and by the small observation of the micro-hairs on the bottle fly’s feet.

Peterson observes that this comprehensive perspective on life is the content of the Biblical psalms. “The Psalm are indiscriminate in their subject matter — complaint and thanks, doubt and anger, outcries of pain and outbursts of joy, quiet reflection and boisterous worship. If it is human, it qualifies.”

Beautiful, neutral, ugly, all of it, yes!

If it is human, it qualifies for a psalm, for a proverb, for a second look, for inclusion into the canon of what is spiritual.

Jesus turned water into wine at Cana. The supernatural coexisted with the mundane. It was a miracle of a most everyday and normal kind, for as C. S. Lewis has pointed out, in the fields grapes left begin to turn into wine naturally.

Do we want to be wise, to traffic daily in wise stuff? Then we must reject nothing as unworthy of thought, hope, redemption, promise.

Think broadly and beyond.