Hwy 56

Good day my brothers and sisters,

Since this is my first blog, I have yet to find a balance of the amount of personal information to share. Questions arise in my mind every time I think of ways to start a post. How much emotion should I convey? Should I mention family members in my posts? What remarks should I post from past conversations without offending them? These are all questions that sensible bloggers ask themselves, yet this subject is all a matter of opinion. Being a truth seeker is a tough job, maybe that’s why Protestant pastors/priests/reverends are listed as one of the hardest jobs in America. I think we are all called to be truth seekers, and this makes all of our lives difficult. How do we tell the difference between a statement of opinion and truth? I am constantly seeking the truth, and I hope I find it by writing out some of my thoughts.

On another note….

I have been doing some traveling the last few weeks due to my upcoming departure from the states. Two weeks ago I visited a few very good friends in Lawrence, KS. The route I had to take was not my normal route; I had to make a stop in Hutchinson to remove the last traces of equipment from my mouth that were used during brace face period. The appointment caused little longer drive, which is normally annoying, but this time it was a blessing. Some Kansans find Kansas to be dreary state in the winter; the leaves are gone and the wind is bitter cold, yet I believe there is beauty in every setting. Highway 56 provided a setting to reveal this secret beauty that snowless Kansas winter days can bring. This beautiful site also provides a beautiful backdrop to contemplative thoughts. 56 broke my belief that finding the quickest route to a destination is always the best. I think my realization can be paralleled with the statement, “stop and smell the roses”, and this type of realization will not be my last. I always seem to be distracted by work, school, and more work; my friends in Lawrence always find a way to break the cycle. As humans, we always need reminders that life can’t be set with a cruise control button on I-70.

My nights in Lawrence were spent playing board games and catching up on all the latest adventures of my favorite newlywed couple. I really enjoy seeing their marriage progress, and I am truly lucky to be part of their lives. Some notable hours of my week included our visit to Benedictine College in Atchison. We went to Mass and Vespers at the college’s campus church.  I have always enjoyed the calm setting that Catholic services offer. Vespers was a relaxing session of prayer and worship music shared with my best friends and a handful of Benedictine monks. The monks displayed compassion and acceptance when they heard that our little group are not members of the Catholic Church. I believe all Catholics and non-Catholics have the ability to display this type of acceptance. Maybe this is why I have always been interested in Catholicism. However, the denominational nature of Christianity didn’t distract from the truly serene experience that our little group witnessed.

Fast forward a few days…

I am lying in my grandparent’s guest bedroom trying to rehash a disturbing dream that my neuro pathways generated while I was sleeping. The dream took first took place in a parlor in some indistinguishable location, it was a tip of the tongue location and will probably always remain as that. The parlor contained individuals I haven’t seen since graduating high school, and all of them seemed to be grieving about a recent death. I am unable to remember the deceased person. In the dream, I am transported to a very large church; its design looked to be inspired by Frank Lloyd Wright, or maybe it was a Frank Lloyd Wright building.

In front of the altar laid the deceased person, and next to the casket was a cloistered nun. The nun began to summon the spirit of the deceased person, and a green image in the shape of person began to form over the casket. The image was similar to the entity that Gene Roddenberry wrote into this episode “Sub Rosa” in the seventh season of Star Trek: The Next Generation (please take my word for this description and do not see this episode of Trek…it is one of the worst episodes).

The nun began to inhale the green gaseous substance/entity, by this point in the dream I was yelling at people in the congregation to do something, but they turned to me with white pupilless eyes and blank expressions that sent shivers through my hippocampus, embedding the dream into my long-term memory. In my dream, I began to make my way to the exit of this “church” after becoming very uncomfortable.

I awoke.

          For the next hour I laid in bed wondering what the dream meant. Dreams can be confusing and disorienting, especially if they involve religion and anything sexual. I wish I could hop into a Holodeck and talk to Sigmund Freud about my dreams; unfortunately I only have his writings.

          After making my way around the state to see family and friends that are basically family; I am happy to spend the next few days talking to Steele Lester and his human family. For now, I hope the sun comes out and the wind stops blowing, so I can get a final round of disc in.