Sunset, Claremont, CA - 1/24/12

A personal psalm

Usually, I don't like messing with scripture - often there are versions that seem to give a very different message than what I feel is the message - though maybe that version speaks better to some others.

But......

Recently, as homework in my Ignatian Spirituality class, we had to come up with a personal psalm - either by writing our own, or combining those that 'spoke' to us as we read the psalms.  I chose the latter course, and was amazed, not so much by the ones that 'touched' me, but by the way certain ones of those said 'use me' and even sometimes even suggested where they should be in relation to others that were self-selecting themselves for this project.  Enjoy.


Praise G-d in his holy place,
praise him in the heavenly vault of his power,
praise him for his mighty deeds,
praise him for all his greatness.

I will thank you, YHWH, with my whole heart,
I will recount all your wonders,
I will rejoice and delight in you,
I will sing to your name, Most High.

Bless YHWH, my soul, from the depth of my being, his holy name;
bless YHWH, my soul, never forget all his acts of kindness.
He forgives all your offenses, cures all your diseases,
he redeems your life from the abyss, crowns you with faithful love and tenderness.

Have mercy on me, O G-d, in your faithful love,
in your great tenderness wipe away my offenses;
wash me clean from my guilt, purify me from my sin.
Create in me a clean heart, renew within me a right spirit.

Unload your burden onto YHWH and he will sustain you;
never will he allow the upright to stumble
For YHWH is good, his faithful love is everlasting,
his constancy from age to age.

To Thine Own Self Be True.

‘To Thine Own Self be True.’
It seemed like an odd thing to teach
    a young boy.  What was your reason, dad?

‘To Thine Own Self be True.’
Is that why I always felt out of step,
    marching to the beat of a different drummer?

‘To Thine Own Self be True.’
Is that why my journey through life has been like
     the Great Wall of China - steep or shallow;
     rough or smooth; twisted and never straight for long;
     the view sometimes distant, sometimes near?

‘To Thine Own Self be True.’
Is that why I treasure the silence - listening for that ‘small,
     still voice within’; much as you must have done
     many times as a Quaker?

‘To Thine Own Self be True.’
I cried at your memorial service, dad, when I learned
     that you had been quoting this Shakespeare phrase
     in high school, long before you passed it on to me.

‘To Thine Own Self be True.’
Who was it that taught it to you?  The grandfather
     I never got to meet?  Or some wise and sage
     person of your meeting?

‘To Thine Own Self be True.’
Is that why I listen to and try to honor the insights
      others have about me?  ‘He’s always been kind
      of spiritual.’  ‘You remind me of the monks at .....’

‘This above all: to thine own self be true, and it must
     follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then
     be false to any man.’ (Hamlet Act 1, sc 3, 78-80)
A way to live? (YES)  Another way of stating the
     second commandment of Christ?  Perhaps, since
     you can’t love others as yourself unless you truly
     love yourself, the true you.

‘This above all: to thine own self be true.’
Such a wonderful gift to have been given.
A gift I hope that I remember every time I zig instead
       of zagging; or embark in a totally new direction.
A gift that will be mine always, a reminder of a
      wise and insightful man, my father.

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,
Alone, in silence.
Yet, not alone - the sound of
   people on their way to somewhere
   is there.

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,
Alone, in silence.
No - there is a house with a light
   on as someone starts their day.

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,
Alone, in silence.
The chill of the morning breeze
   on my cheeks awakens, enlivens me.

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,
Alone, in silence.
Except for the sound of unseen
    leaves crunching underfoot.

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,
Alone, in silence.
Except for the dim outline of
     trees - present, yet not in focus.

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,
Alone, in silence.
Except for the stars in the sky
     (yes, even here in Los Angeles)

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,
Alone, in silence.
Except for the jet contrail that
    stretches across the sky as someone or
     something speeds toward its destination.

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,
Alone, in silence.
Except for that person who is seeing
   this same contrail with the light of the sun
   behind it as I have, binding the two of us together,
    in shared wonder, for an instance.

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,
Alone, in silence.
Except for the early dog walker, felt before
   being seen.
Or the early runner, footsteps heard in the
   semi-darkness.

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,
Alone, in silence.
As I turn and head east, I see the
    brightening of the horizon.
The stars are fewer and less obvious, yet
    their presence still speaks to me.

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,
Alone, in silence.
No, never alone or in silence, for I
   am surrounded by beauty and wonder
   that is speaking to me, enjoying my presence
   as I enjoy all of its.

In the pre-dawn hour I walk,
Alone, in silence.
Today, tomorrow, or the next day I
   will return -
In the pre-dawn hour to walk,
Not alone, or in silence.
Never.
Ever.