went swimming in the ocean at san clemente pier today. last weekend when i was here the swell was way too big for swimming and i had to be content with wading up to my shins and letting my ankles get pounded and bruised by the rocks coming in on the surf. today it was much calmer and full of swimmers, with boogie boards and without.
i like swimming out past the breaking waves so i can float on the surface and bob with the waves as they go in. i wasn't quite prepared for the strength of these waves, though, or the riptide that accompanied them. soon i found myself out further than i planned. i watched the guy swimming near me start paddling in and decided to do the same. it was frustrating to feel like i was swimming but not getting much of anywhere, but i wasn't worried. i swim a couple days a week and, while i'm not a super strong swimmer, i can hold my own. so i didn't panic. i'm wondering if my face told a different story.
because suddenly there was a lifeguard in front of me with one of those red buoy things. i was so totally surprised that when he pushed it toward me i took hold of it. "there's a strong riptide here," he said, and started backstroking in. he was strong, because i could really feel the pull when the rope went taut. within a couple strokes we were back in a safer area, and all the people stood staring at me. i have to admit i was a bit embarrassed. i'm not even sure i thanked the lifeguard, but he was gone as suddenly as he had showed up.
the guy who had been swimming near me saw me and said, "you were ok, weren't you?" and i said, "yeah, i was fine. i don't know why he came out." and that was it.
i've been thinking about it more, and i realize i really didn't need the lifeguard to tow me in. in fact, i was so shocked that he was in front of me that i just did what he expected of me without thinking much about it. the reality is, i was fine and would have been fine without his help. if he had asked me if i was ok, i think i would have said, "yeah, but if you swim in beside me that would be cool." i knew i could make the swim myself but would have been fine with the knowledge that if i did need him, he would be next to me.
now, his training probably tells him it's better not to ask questions when it's a question of drowning in riptides and surf. and i respect that. but i started thinking about all the ways we assume others need our help. when we don't ask but just assume need, we don't give people a chance to say no or yes or not really, but it would be cool if you swam/walked/hung out beside me while i try to do this on my own. we also might figure that, since they said ok, they meant it. when the truth is, they might have been caught off guard, or not known what to say, or figured they couldn't say no.
i didn't like how i felt while being unnecessarily rescued, and i hope i remember what it feels like when i'm in a position to assume what others need at a given moment, and ask a question before taking charge.
Sunday, August 02, 2009
Monday, April 13, 2009
happy easter, ya'll
Sunday 12 april 2009 12:07pm.
Easter Sunday morning. I don’t usually go to church while I’m visiting my dad. Mostly because I’m usually only here a few days and I don’t like to miss my own church in CA so I go back on Sunday morning/afternoon. But, it being Easter, I thought I would go check out one of the local places. The paper showed about 20 different churches of all types of denominations. From traditional Catholic and Baptist ones to the Cowboy Church and the one I ended up at, Church out of Church. Weird name. I kept calling it Church not in Church in my head.
Coming from Prague, where there are only small or smallish congregations of the few churches in the city of 1+ million, I wasn’t sure what to expect out of church among many in a town pop 8 or so thousand. I pulled into the Flying J Ranch a little before 10 and was directed into a parking place and pointed to a wooden building. Walked into a dark room full of picnic tables and gravel floor and poured myself some coffee. Finding a place to sit shouldn’t have been difficult but I’m not used to the picnic table seating arrangement, so I kind of wandered a bit. Tried to sit near some people but it turned out they were saving seats for their family. So I went off to the side and sat alone.
Probably because it’s Easter, the whole place filled up by the time the service started. Hundreds of people. Making this small-town NM church more populated than any church in world-capital Prague. Apparently the family that was supposed to show up didn’t, and the woman who had refused me a seat stood up, caught my eye and tried to wave me over. I appreciated her effort but waved her off. I was fine where I was, actually.
This being New Mexico, there were plenty of cowboy boots and hats and tight Wrangler jeans. But also fancy fur-lined coats (the room was pretty cool and there had been a sprinkling of snow fall during the night) and even a few Easter sundresses. Those girls must have been frozen. I never took off my jacket.
The service itself wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, as far as churches go. I learned that it’s only been around since September. Wow. They’re focused on Jesus and loving him and the world and each other, which I’m on board with. They’ve started something where they go to trailer parks and other poor-folk places after the Sunday service, fire up a couple grills, and feed people. That’s pretty cool.
As frustrated as I can be with church in America, I most always appreciate being there, especially when it’s a group of authentic people who find hope in Jesus and realize they sure need it. I looked around and saw people happy to see one another, giving hugs and smiles away. And I realized what a lovely thing the church is and why it’s so necessary. We need to feel loved and cared for, and there aren’t many places to find that these days. You might find it in a local pub or hair salon or your office, but most people are searching for it. And I think it’s beautiful when people find it in church. That’s where it’s supposed to be, if I understand Jesus right.
The wind was blowing as I walked in and the sun hitting my eyes caused them to tear up, but I found myself getting teary during the service anyway. That often happens to me when I go to church in America. Odd. I haven’t figured it out yet, but it’s something in the words spoken, or sensing the Spirit or something else. But it almost always gets me.
The passage the pastor read of the Easter story was one of the ones read during the new Czech translation celebration I went to right before leaving Prague. The part where Peter and John go running to the tomb. Sadly, the pastor skipped the Mary segment, where she runs into Jesus in the garden and mistakes him for the gardener until he says her name. The actress who read that story was amazing and I loved how she interpreted the words with her tone. The Czech words were echoing in my head as I listened to it in English.
They had an egg hunt for the kiddies afterward and then hot dogs and hamburgers for everyone. Nice. I’ll probably go back another week. I wish I’d connected with some people, but there were a lot of families and probably a ton of visitors because it was Easter, so it might be easier to meet folks next week.
Easter Sunday morning. I don’t usually go to church while I’m visiting my dad. Mostly because I’m usually only here a few days and I don’t like to miss my own church in CA so I go back on Sunday morning/afternoon. But, it being Easter, I thought I would go check out one of the local places. The paper showed about 20 different churches of all types of denominations. From traditional Catholic and Baptist ones to the Cowboy Church and the one I ended up at, Church out of Church. Weird name. I kept calling it Church not in Church in my head.
Coming from Prague, where there are only small or smallish congregations of the few churches in the city of 1+ million, I wasn’t sure what to expect out of church among many in a town pop 8 or so thousand. I pulled into the Flying J Ranch a little before 10 and was directed into a parking place and pointed to a wooden building. Walked into a dark room full of picnic tables and gravel floor and poured myself some coffee. Finding a place to sit shouldn’t have been difficult but I’m not used to the picnic table seating arrangement, so I kind of wandered a bit. Tried to sit near some people but it turned out they were saving seats for their family. So I went off to the side and sat alone.
Probably because it’s Easter, the whole place filled up by the time the service started. Hundreds of people. Making this small-town NM church more populated than any church in world-capital Prague. Apparently the family that was supposed to show up didn’t, and the woman who had refused me a seat stood up, caught my eye and tried to wave me over. I appreciated her effort but waved her off. I was fine where I was, actually.
This being New Mexico, there were plenty of cowboy boots and hats and tight Wrangler jeans. But also fancy fur-lined coats (the room was pretty cool and there had been a sprinkling of snow fall during the night) and even a few Easter sundresses. Those girls must have been frozen. I never took off my jacket.
The service itself wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, as far as churches go. I learned that it’s only been around since September. Wow. They’re focused on Jesus and loving him and the world and each other, which I’m on board with. They’ve started something where they go to trailer parks and other poor-folk places after the Sunday service, fire up a couple grills, and feed people. That’s pretty cool.
As frustrated as I can be with church in America, I most always appreciate being there, especially when it’s a group of authentic people who find hope in Jesus and realize they sure need it. I looked around and saw people happy to see one another, giving hugs and smiles away. And I realized what a lovely thing the church is and why it’s so necessary. We need to feel loved and cared for, and there aren’t many places to find that these days. You might find it in a local pub or hair salon or your office, but most people are searching for it. And I think it’s beautiful when people find it in church. That’s where it’s supposed to be, if I understand Jesus right.
The wind was blowing as I walked in and the sun hitting my eyes caused them to tear up, but I found myself getting teary during the service anyway. That often happens to me when I go to church in America. Odd. I haven’t figured it out yet, but it’s something in the words spoken, or sensing the Spirit or something else. But it almost always gets me.
The passage the pastor read of the Easter story was one of the ones read during the new Czech translation celebration I went to right before leaving Prague. The part where Peter and John go running to the tomb. Sadly, the pastor skipped the Mary segment, where she runs into Jesus in the garden and mistakes him for the gardener until he says her name. The actress who read that story was amazing and I loved how she interpreted the words with her tone. The Czech words were echoing in my head as I listened to it in English.
They had an egg hunt for the kiddies afterward and then hot dogs and hamburgers for everyone. Nice. I’ll probably go back another week. I wish I’d connected with some people, but there were a lot of families and probably a ton of visitors because it was Easter, so it might be easier to meet folks next week.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
ninja on the metro
first off, i don't have an iphone. maybe yet. so uploading the pics i took today has been a chore and, because i have no clue what the passcode is for the bluetooth part of my phone, i might never be able to upload them. which is a shame, but not the end of the world.
so, because there haven't been any terrorist attacks in prague, security on the metro is, shall we say, lax. the cops ride now and then, but i think they're on the lookout for vandals (graffitti taggers and sticker, um, stickers) more than anything. i regularly see guys in camo gear with paintball or other rifles on their way to some sort of war game.
but i've never seen anything like the ninja before.
also, i have to say, the prague metro is the place to see almost anything. drunks puking is old hat. drunks chatting up cute chicks happens all the time. rabid football and hockey fans are there anytime one of the local teams play. and once, in 1995, i witnessed a guy getting off a car with a HUGE owl on his arm, like he was about to go, well, not falconing, but owling, when he got off. the thing followed me with its huge eyes and swively head. that's when i thought i'd seen everything. well, no.
especially because a few years ago i saw a skinny little guy in full S&M gear waiting for the train. that was a little traumatic.
today i went down the stairs onto the platform and saw mr ninja guy in all black, including the big tunic, weaponing up. he was pulling one thing after another out of a big back to tuck into his wide leather studded belt. first one sword, then another. then a big stick. then another big stick. then another sword. mind you, everyone who walked past couldn't help but gawk.
and he was totally oblivious.
and i think my surreptitious picture-taking with my phone was probably not all that sneaky.
finally he held two wooden bows in his hands. didn't see a quiver full of arrows, flaming or otherwise. then he boarded the metro car like everyone else and stood (what else could he do?) for a few stops before exiting.
now, most folks stared initially, but then accepted his getup and looked away. not me. i could hardly take my eyes off him. partly because i couldn't fathom why he would unload his bag of goodies before entering the metro. why not wait until arriving at his destination, whatever that might have been (and i have NO idea what that could have been). why arm himself first? attention? maybe. convenience? not sure.
so weird.
but i couldn't help imagining what might happen if such a man would attempt to enter public transport in the states. or london. or madrid. or anywhere that takes weaponry as a threat.
certainly he would receive more than a few stares. he'd probably be tackled and quickly disarmed.
like i said, i've seen guys with rifles, even those not in cases. hop on the metro and hop off again with no interference.
it's terribly funny in many ways. but rather disturbing in others.
ok, got the bluetooth to work. here are the pics:
so, because there haven't been any terrorist attacks in prague, security on the metro is, shall we say, lax. the cops ride now and then, but i think they're on the lookout for vandals (graffitti taggers and sticker, um, stickers) more than anything. i regularly see guys in camo gear with paintball or other rifles on their way to some sort of war game.
but i've never seen anything like the ninja before.
also, i have to say, the prague metro is the place to see almost anything. drunks puking is old hat. drunks chatting up cute chicks happens all the time. rabid football and hockey fans are there anytime one of the local teams play. and once, in 1995, i witnessed a guy getting off a car with a HUGE owl on his arm, like he was about to go, well, not falconing, but owling, when he got off. the thing followed me with its huge eyes and swively head. that's when i thought i'd seen everything. well, no.
especially because a few years ago i saw a skinny little guy in full S&M gear waiting for the train. that was a little traumatic.
today i went down the stairs onto the platform and saw mr ninja guy in all black, including the big tunic, weaponing up. he was pulling one thing after another out of a big back to tuck into his wide leather studded belt. first one sword, then another. then a big stick. then another big stick. then another sword. mind you, everyone who walked past couldn't help but gawk.
and he was totally oblivious.
and i think my surreptitious picture-taking with my phone was probably not all that sneaky.
finally he held two wooden bows in his hands. didn't see a quiver full of arrows, flaming or otherwise. then he boarded the metro car like everyone else and stood (what else could he do?) for a few stops before exiting.
now, most folks stared initially, but then accepted his getup and looked away. not me. i could hardly take my eyes off him. partly because i couldn't fathom why he would unload his bag of goodies before entering the metro. why not wait until arriving at his destination, whatever that might have been (and i have NO idea what that could have been). why arm himself first? attention? maybe. convenience? not sure.
so weird.
but i couldn't help imagining what might happen if such a man would attempt to enter public transport in the states. or london. or madrid. or anywhere that takes weaponry as a threat.
certainly he would receive more than a few stares. he'd probably be tackled and quickly disarmed.
like i said, i've seen guys with rifles, even those not in cases. hop on the metro and hop off again with no interference.
it's terribly funny in many ways. but rather disturbing in others.
ok, got the bluetooth to work. here are the pics:
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