Today I saw a bobcat - a symbol of wildness - just a few hours after I found out that I will not be rehired to teach Contemplative Christianity at Naropa University. Apparently, this semester will be my last. This summer, I'll be replaced by a new hire - a person with a PhD and an M.Div. Such, of course, is the life of an adjunct professor: passionate about teaching and students, but eternally insecure in one's job. These days, it matters not at all how much experience, wisdom or passion one has. The letters behind one's name are, in the end, the thing that counts the most in this crazy society of ours.
Reflecting on today's bobcat sighting, I realized that I must stay in
touch with my own inner wildness, undomesticated by any institution or
organization, no matter how spiritual that institution may seem to be.
This wildness is in turn a participation in the wild spontaneity of the
Divine Source, who I trust will lead me into the next unexpected venture
- just as unexpected as the email arriving out of the blue six years
ago that notified me of my first hiring at Naropa. At that time, the
school was so convinced I was the right person for the job, they didn't
even interview me - neither in person nor over the phone.
Today I also spent some time with pink prickly-pear cactus plants and ruddy sandstone cliffs, reminding me that the desert-like emptiness of this current layoff can also become beautiful. For new growth appearing in the starkness of the desert is perhaps even more lovely than the lushness that flourishes in a wet climate. Later, on my way home, I came across a thicket of Willow trees, whose branches were in the process of turning the orange and yellow hues that manifest themselves during late winter in anticipation of the buds that will burst forth in a few months.
I pray that during this time of insecurity, I may retain the wildness of the bobcat, the unexpected beauty of the desert cactus, and the colorful hue of the willow branches that never fail to anticipate Spring during the dead of winter.
Photos: (Top) Bobcat; (Middle) Prickly-Pear Cactus and sandstone cliffs; (Bottom) Willow branches, with Bellvue Dome in the background. All three photos were taken in Lory State Park, CO, on February 8, 2015
Today I also spent some time with pink prickly-pear cactus plants and ruddy sandstone cliffs, reminding me that the desert-like emptiness of this current layoff can also become beautiful. For new growth appearing in the starkness of the desert is perhaps even more lovely than the lushness that flourishes in a wet climate. Later, on my way home, I came across a thicket of Willow trees, whose branches were in the process of turning the orange and yellow hues that manifest themselves during late winter in anticipation of the buds that will burst forth in a few months.
I pray that during this time of insecurity, I may retain the wildness of the bobcat, the unexpected beauty of the desert cactus, and the colorful hue of the willow branches that never fail to anticipate Spring during the dead of winter.
Photos: (Top) Bobcat; (Middle) Prickly-Pear Cactus and sandstone cliffs; (Bottom) Willow branches, with Bellvue Dome in the background. All three photos were taken in Lory State Park, CO, on February 8, 2015
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