Hike Report: LA Zoo to Amir's Garden

On Sunday afternoon my son and I joined my friend David for a short hike in L.A.'s Griffith Park.  It was an unusual hike in that we didn't begin until after 3:00, and it was entirely within the city limits of Los Angeles.  Nevertheless, it was a beautiful hike on a trail lined with beautiful wildflowers.

We parked at the northwest corner of the LA Zoo parking lot.  From there we followed a chain link fence around a maintenance area to a horse trail that passed under a bridge.

After passing under the bridge, the trail climbed to a ridge, then followed the ridge which provided some awesome views of Glendale to the east and Burbank to the north.  To the south, through the trees, we could catch glimpses of the zoo grounds.  On prevous hikes on this trail, I could hear occasional sounds of exotic animals echoing up, but on this day, only the sound of the strong wind could be heard, and the views were often looking through wildly waving grasses and bushes.

Eventually the trail leads to Mineral Spring picnic area, a popular picnic area  in a ravine that can be accessed by car.  We crossed through the picnic area and continued on a trail on the opposite side of the ravine that led up a short way to a place called Amir's Garden.   

Amir's Garden is a wonderful place to explore, with numerous trails twisting around the shady hillside.  After wandering around a bit, we headed back the way we came as the sun sank lower in the sky.

As we neared the parking lot, just before descending back down the ridge, we saw downtown Glendale and the intersection of the Ventura and Golden State Freeways (Hwy 134 & I-5) gleaming below us.  Urban sprawl never looked so beautiful...

Read about a previous trip I took to Amir's Garden here.

Kindness & Human Dignity (part one)

Lately I've been reading several books.  One, a book on kindness, is by Nawang Khechog, who spent a number of years as a Buddhist monk and who studied with the Dalai Lama.

I chose this book for several reasons.  One reason is that I heard an interview on the radio with Sylvia Boorstein.  At the time I didn't know who she was, but listening to her talk, her gentle voice that emanated wisdom and gentleness, I was captivated.  Sylvia Boorstein was raised Jewish and now practices Buddhism and has written several books herself including one on finding happiness, and another titled, That's Funny, You Don't Look Buddhist.

Now it happened that I was in the car when I heard this interview, but I couldn't hear very well what she was saying because the rest of the family was in the car as well.  Even the dog!  And everyone was talking (except the dog), and asking to listen to something else, and complaining about why we all needed to be going where we were going ... and finally I yelled, "Shut up!  I'm trying to listen to this!  Just shut up!"

And then it got real quiet, except for Sylvia Boorstein on the radio; and she was talking about kindness.  And I realized that maybe I should learn a little more about kindness, and try to practice it more.

Another reason I chose a book on kindness is that I realized that kindness has been the most overlooked of all virtues for me.  The call to act with kindness is everywhere, but I didn't see it.  It's in my church's vision statement, which is based on Micah 6:8:  "What does the Lord require of you? Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly..."  It's the sixth point of the boy scout law:  "A scout is kind."  It's one of the fruits of the Spirit Paul writes about in his letter to the Galatians:  "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness...."

And not too long ago, at the end of one of our worship services here, I almost stopped cold in the middle of the benediction, because I was startled to realize that kindness is one of the blessings mentioned in my paraphrase of Numbers 6:26, which I use quite often:  "May God bless you and keep you, may God's face shine upon you and be gracious to you, may God look upon you with kindness ... and give you peace."

I had always thought that kindness was kind of wimpy when compared to other virtues, like love, boldness, justice, and peacemaking.  But suddenly realizing that the call to kindness surrounded me, it seemed to me that perhaps I should explore that.

Another book I've been reading is a book on the moral vision of César Chávez.  My daily prayer book featured some quotes from César Chávez recently, and it seemed to me that I should learn more about this influential and inspiring Californian of the 20th century.

Normally, I try to focus my attention on one book at a time; but for some reason I found myself alternating back and forth, reading one chapter from the book on kindness and then one chapter about César Chávez's moral and religious convictions.  And in my mind, these two books started conversing with each other.  César Chávez's Catholic faith taught him that every human being has worth and deserves to be treated with dignity; and recognizing one's God-given worth, I realized, is made possible when we learn to practice kindness.  Treating people with kindness, and treating them with dignity, are almost the same thing.

And they are much more important than I realized.

This is the beginning of a sermon that I'm working on for June 5.  Hear the rest (which I've not written yet) by coming to worship, or by following the link at the top of the right-hand column.

Spring Flower

A Good Turn Results in a Good Picture

The boy scout camp where I spent last weekend is a beautiful place.  Located 6500 feet above sea level, it is a cool refuge from the cities and deserts below. 

One downside, though, is that a highway runs through the camp property.  At the camporee this past weekend, scouts had to cross the road in order to reach several of the activities. 

After lunch on Saturday, I and another leader were abruptly given reflective vests and  bright flags, and told to go to the crossing to assist scouts crossing the road.  Scouts were already on their way to activities, so unfortunately this meant we had no time to grab a book, a lawn chair, or anything else to pass the time in those periods when we were waiting for scouts to assist across the road.

Fortunately, though, I did have my camera.  After assisting a number of scouts across the highway, I had some time to look around and see if there was anything picture-worthy.  I noticed to the west, set back a short ways from the road, a wooden fence meandering across a small grassy meadow, around some ponderosa pines.  I took several pictures, experimenting to get the right balance of light between the sun and the shadows.  The best one is posted below.

It's May ... Right?

The view from my tent Saturday morning, before the events of the scout camporee I was at got underway.  Fortunately, there was no snow on the ground where we were camping, below the peaks of the San Gorgonio wilderness.  However, we did see a few flurries before we left Sunday, and from what I hear, it's snowing up there again today, on the 10,000 foot peaks as well as at the camp (elevation 6500').

You're Not Alone

Note:  I posted this last Thursday, but for some reason it disappeared from the blog, so I'm reposting it again today.

Last week, a strange thing happened here at FieldOfDandelions.com. 

First, I published a post on Monday.  Usually, new posts only appear here on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  However, the fact that I published on a Monday is not the strangest thing to have occured.

Second, I mentioned my post on facebook and twitter, letting people know that I had posted my reaction to the killing of Osama bin Laden.  This, also, is not particulary strange.  It wasn't the first time I had promoted my blog this way.

Third, more people viewed that particular post than anything else that has ever appeared here.  As blogs go, this one is a tiny drop in a vast sea of blogs, but still, it was exciting (and a little scary) to discover that so many people were motivated to read what I had written.

However, even that was not the strangest thing to occur here last week.

The strangest thing was the comments I received in response to that post.  I received some comments here on the blog, and quite a few more on the link to the blog that I posted via facebook.  Comments also came via telephone from relatives who read the blog, and they came through face-to-face conversations with people in my church and community who saw what I had written.  Every person who shared their thoughts with me said that they were grateful for what I'd written.  They were grateful, because they had those same thoughts themselves, but thought that they were the only ones.

Imagine that:  a whole crowd of people, all thinking alike, but each member of the crowd believing that he or she was the only one.

Last Friday I visited my neighborhood public library and checked out a book by Tina Rosenberg called Join the Club: How Peer Pressure Can Transform the World.  I'm currently about halfway through, but so far I've read about how much better black and Latino students do at Calculus when they study in a group and realize that they're not the only ones who want to excel in math.  I've read about how a sign at Petrified Forest National Park asking visitors to not take fossils only encouraged people to do so, because it showed an image of a group of people taking fossils - apparently no one wanted to be the "only one" who didn't go home with a souvenir - and when the sign was changed to only show one person taking a fossil, the thefts declined dramatically.  I've read about how social pressure causes teenagers to smoke and how it increases the spread of AIDS, and how social pressure can (and has been) used to reduce teen smoking and the spread of AIDS.

Apparently, it's human nature to want to be part of the group and to do what the group is doing or at least what the group approves of.  When we think we're the only one, we either hide, or change our behavior so that we more easily fit in.

So, to all those who believe that the words "killed" and "celebrate" do not belong together, I tell you:  you're not alone.  To those who believe that God's love extends even to our worst enemies, I say:  you're not alone.  To those who long for a more peaceful, compassionate Christianity, I say:  you're not alone.  To those who believe there is a greater deptgh to our faith than the soundbites that appear in the media, I say:  you're not alone.

Churches like mine are small, perhaps because we think that we are alone in wanting a deeper, more peaceful and compassionate spirituality than what we see in the world.... and because we feel that we are alone, we keep quiet.  However, there are many others who long for that same genuine faith.

Perhaps our message to the world should be:  "You're not alone."

Mugu Sunrise

Sunrise over Pt. Mugu and Mugu Peak.  I took this photo about two weeks ago.  A more recent visit to the beach (this time, here in Long Beach) resulted in photos of a sandstorm, due to strong wind. 

Getting Real and Present

For many, life is a never-ending series of stressful events and anxieties.  There are so many things that occupy the mind:  appointments, deadlines, bills, chores, projects, and an inexplicable desire to not miss a single facebook status update or piece of internet gossip.  Never is the mind allowed to rest.  These thoughts are juggled in the air, so that as soon as one is released from the mind, the next has to be caught lest it be allowed to fall to the ground.

The thing is, few of these things are real; and by real, I mean a present, concrete reality.  Take deadlines for example.  A deadline is not present, but in the future; neither is it concrete, but rather an abstraction of time and the mind.  It's not something you can appreciate or consider with any of the five senses.  You can neither taste, smell, see, touch, nor hear a deadline.

This is true of many of the things which occupy our minds.  This is true of many of the things which keep us awake at night.  Strictly speaking, they're not real.  They exist only in the mind.

Since they do not involve the senses, it could be said that they are extra-sensory.  Since they are not ordinary parts of reality, it could be said that they are extra-ordinary.

I don't know about you, but sometimes I long for something sensory and ordinary.  Sometimes I long to experience something real and present.

I do not wish to free my life of all deadlines, bills, projects, etc.  There is some value to such things.  However, I do work to limit the commitments I make which give birth to such things.  And when I find my mind overwhelmed with anxieties and things that are neither real nor concrete, then I know it's time to re-engage my mind and my senses in the real world.

Last week, my family spent three days camping on a rocky beach.  For three days, I and a number of people - children, mostly - built sandsculptures and rock forts.  I ended up hauling a lot of rocks across the beach, lining them and stacking them.

Stacking rocks is real.  To do so, your mind must be present.  You have to feel the rock in your hand.  You have to focus.  You have to empty your mind of all other distractions, worries, and anxieties.

Some folks camping not too far away saw my rock towers.  They were sure I had used glue to hold them together.  I assured them that my only tools were focus and patience.

As if to prove my point, the sea breeze picked up, and started knocking over my towers, rock by rock.

How do you empty your mind?  How do you free yourself (temporarily, at least) of stress and anxiety?  How do you bring your thoughts into the present?

You are worried and distracted by many things.  There is need of only one thing...
Luke 10:41-42

Can any of you, by worrying, add a single hour to your span of life?
Matthew 6:27

Hiking to the Stars

Went on a great hike the day before Easter. Unfortunately, I forgot to bring my camera.

A few days later, however, I organized a short hike for my son's boy scout troop.  There are a lot of new, younger scouts in the troop, and it was decided to go on an outing to the world famous Griffith Observatory.  We began at Ferndell Park in Hollywood, and hiked one mile up the hill to the observatory.  We explored the exhibits, saw the plantarium show, then hiked back down ... all on a postcard-perfect day.

Special Monday Post: On Bin Laden's Death

This is an excerpt from the article I'm submitting for this week's church newsletter....

My sons are 9 and 13. Next year, the youngest will start middle school and the oldest will start high school. It’s amazing how fast the years go by.

Even so, it remains that one of the most important rituals in our house comes when I read to my sons before bed. Over Spring Break, our schedule didn’t allow this to happen, so on Sunday evening, we resumed our normal routine with enthusiasm. Both boys were looking forward to reading the chapter of the Gringotts break-in in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows; the youngest, because he’s never read it before, and the oldest, because he has.

We were about to begin. I was just waiting for the youngest one to come to the bedroom. He was saying goodnight to his mom, who was in the living room with the TV on. Finally he enters the bedroom, waving his arms and doing a funky dance that only a 9 year-old could do, and starts singing, “Bin Laden is dead, Bin Laden is dead…”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yes, they just said so on TV.”

I said to him, “You know, I don’t think it makes God happy to have any of his children die. Not even Bin Laden.” He didn’t say anything, but he did stop dancing.

For the next half-hour, we read an exciting tale of dragons and gold and adventure. As we neared the end of the chapter, we were startled to hear some fireworks that one of our neighbors had shot off. Apparently, the whole world was now celebrating Bin Laden’s death.

As I said good night and turned out the light, I was reminded of another story, this one from long ago. The Hebrew people were suffering under a ruler who was at that time the world’s greatest terrorist. Pharaoh was ruthless. He took away the people’s freedom. In order to prevent them from becoming too powerful, he even ordered that their sons should be killed.

God saved the Hebrew people by leading them through the Red Sea. When Pharaoh’s army pursued, God allowed the sea to swallow them up.

Jewish legend says that the Hebrews then began to rejoice, but that God stopped them, saying, “Do not rejoice, for those Egyptians were my children, too.”

I am thankful that Bin Laden is no longer able to orchestrate terror and instill fear. I am thankful for those who work for justice in our world.

But I cannot bring myself to rejoicing over the death of one of God’s children.