zen and the art of...?

sort of like an unfortunate re-run of that (tom hanks?) movie, ‘the terminal’ i find myself taking up temporary residence at the sea-tac airport for the time being. i arrived many hours ago and will still be here for many more. initially, the incremental delays seemed inconsequential -- but when i realized i wouldn’t be leaving the ground until nearly 12 hours after my initial arrival, my heart was a little saddened ;o/

once i was given a definitive departure time (and an upgrade to first class!) i was a bit more encouraged. and now that i have settled into a friendly corner and discovered a serendipitous wi-fi pocket i really can’t complain.

as oft as i think i have learned the lesson, i realize that for the rest of my life i will be discovering the meditative mystery of life. ‘you only need sit still long enough in some attractive spot in the woods
that all its inhabitants may exhibit themselves to you by turns.’ as thoreau once said. and although these aren’t the woods and the creatures revealing themselves are not colorful ferns and mosses, i suppose the moving sidewalks and the little shuttles with flashing orange lights will have to suffice in this situation.


…already i did discover in the giftshop the most exciting treasure of the day! when i was in Honduras some of my friends there had learned how to weave little pocketbook purses out of used chip bags (yeah, like doritos and cheetos bags). before leaving some of them gave me a few to bring back with me… and today i saw one nearly identical to the purse little sara had woven. not only so, but there was a sign with it saying these purses were hand crafted in comyagua, honduras. wow. what a strange strange world we live in. i took a picture on my cell phone because i didn’t want to forget that unexpectedly surreal moment on the airport giftshop. those little ironic purses are creating quite a story for themselves. it is hard for me to envision sara, who has never even lived with electricity in her home, how would i explain that her purses are being sold here? i wondered if the women who were picking up those little gems, admiring the colorful zippers and commenting on their unique design felt the touch of my friend sara. like two very different, but not so separate, worlds weaving together, their fingers touched the product of hours of thoughtful work. probably woven amongst a group of friends placticando about the coffee harvest and about the rain and their husbands and children. there is so much hidden love and wonder and mystery that we touch every day. i am thankful this one time i had my own tiny snapshot of the world with which those inquisitive shoppers were colliding.

taste and see that the Lord is good… psalm 34:8

…His compassions never fail, they are new every morning…lamentations 3:22-23