Ranters

A grey hoodie over a blue, blue-and-white checkered keffiyeh around his neck and down his front like a prayer shawl, shopping cart with bulging white bag stuffed inside beside his legs, the ranter occupied his morning position near the door of the Orange line train from Forest Hills this morning. Looking down at the floor but not mumbling, he expressed his in-the-know convictions about....ethnic groups, nationalities, the quality of products made here vs there, what really happened, who's really in charge, on and on. Every now and again he looked up and around with puffy turtle eyes in the middle of a red face. He shut up as the train filled up. Ah, silence.

Is this blog a rant like the old guy's on the train? That guy wasn't stupid; at least he kept up with the news. I might say the same about myself. What's the diff?

Posting something every day has given my time a tautness that's like preparing for a new class in a new subject: today was okay but what am I going to do tomorrow? Some days I know in advance what I'll write about; other days I'm just juggling bubbles until I sit down to write. There was more anxiety early on but now it seems as routine as lacing up my running shoes and heading out into City Hall Plaza for my run. The post that took longest to write (and I was least satisfied with) was one in which I was defending against possible accusations of misrepresentation. Needn't have worried. Nobody said (or says) anything.

The pleasure is not like that of reading or watching a movie or listening to music in Jordan Hall. Each post grows under my hand as if by magic, at the end it flies off like a dove, each unique and lovely. There's the admiration of its plumage and its parabola... Then normal life is taken up, the idea-watch begins, and I feel an anticipation. What will emerge, what will I discover when I sit down this evening at the computer (or morning when out in Michigan)? I sometime try to store up posts in draft form but they quickly get stale and uninteresting.

How long I will continue or be able to continue is an open question, but already there's a repository, the stories of nearly a hundred encounters, each a chunk of life in itself, and all available for future further consideration. Are these posts evidence (convincing to me at least) that encounters are the significant units of a God-in-love premised life? Do they exemplify the principles of 2nd person friendship, hospitality, exploration at the heart of such a life? Is it a life worth living?

So far, the results have been positive. I haven't done much risking, and I haven't been deeply challenged, as by the death of a loved one (sure to come). I haven't found myself on the horns of some terrible dilemma, or having to cope with loss of limb or sense. I haven't looked up in daylight at an asteroid aimed at humanity's obliteration, though global warming promises its own share of nasty surprises. So I can't say yet God-in-love is a tough enough concept to remain relevant under those circumstances.

What does anyone else think?  Specifically, do these posts and the theory behind them mutually endorse each other? Does one illustrate the other, and the other explain the first? Any critical thought to this point would be very useful.

I propose to continue the experiment and expect new discoveries. More to the point, I think I have the germ of an idea for tomorrow's post and I look forward to mulling it over during the day.

Who knows, maybe even the Orange line ranter will discover something new to say.