Month: February 2026

On the shore

On a desolate island somewhere in the Pacific, a lone figure sits on the beach watching the waves undulate to, it seems, infinity. Is this the beginning of the story, the satisfying conclusion, or somewhere in the middle? Does she want to be in this desolate place, or is she lost — banished, or abandoned, or washed ashore after some catastrophe? Is her goal to be rescued, or is she content on this beach? Will welcome a rescuer with open arms, or resist? Or perhaps her predicament is not being sure if staying or going is the right course of action.

Some days, being stranded in a far-off place sounds like salvation from the buzz of stimulation overload — one yearns to sit somewhere and watch the waves, relieved of the hectic pace. Some days, the last thing you want is to be left alone.

Where am I going with this? What conclusions do I draw? Probably nothing more than recognizing we don’t know the whys and wherefores of the scenes we encounter moment to moment. It doesn’t hurt to ask, “Can I help?”

“‘Let me help.’ A hundred years or so from now, a great novelist will say those three words are the most important one can say to another, even more important than ‘I love you.’” 

There I go, quoting fiction again. (Star Trek, “The City on the Edge of Forever.”) It’s amazing how much truth can be drawn from make-believe stories.

This post is a waste of time

“I wish I didn’t waste a moment,” I said as I tucked the “smartphone” back into my pocket after a 20-minute drift through social media.

Which are the wasted moments? Well, surely the endless scrolling in search of random knowledge. Or … is doomscrolling or binging several episodes of a favorite television show a welcome respite from harsh reality?

With time, as with physical objects, I suppose “one person’s waste is another person’s treasure.” But there definitely are times when I emerge from a period of time ruefully thinking I could have spent it more wisely.

I advise myself, “Stop looking back, this is today,” because it feels like time is better spent focused on the present moment and moving forward rather than on regrets for past behavior. “Don’t beat yourself up, just resolve to do better next time.”

And sometimes we do need to “waste” time while our bodies or minds are recharging — resting from hard work or exercise, or processing a complicated work of art or situation. 

But we shouldn’t just shrug and say, “I don’t know why I wasted so much time,” and brush it off. It behooves us to answer that question: Why DID I waste that time? And was it really wasted, or did I learn a little something?

Edison, I think, said something to the effect of, “I did not fail 100 times in my attempt to create electric light, I successfully identified 100 ways it would not work.

The time was not wasted if we move on recognizing we have found another way of wasting time that we ought not repeat. 

A whisper in your ear

I can’t retrace my steps, so I am not sure how I found “Where angels dance,” the rerun I pulled from the archives after a frustrating day struggling with technology that refused to work for me, starting with my third internet outage of the month. That was strike 3, by the way, and I have scheduled installation of a better service in a couple of weeks.

On a night when the rift among the U.S. government’s supposed leaders was on full display on national TV, and I found myself with very strong opinions, my technological frustrations led me instead to a day when I wrote:

“Given a finite time to have any impact on this universe, spend every minute in love, in spirit-lifting, on big ideas, on generosity, on making every moment count for something positive.”

My past self — and I must believe the hand of God — reminded me that focusing on the squabbles among those who purport to run our lives is not going to lift spirits or spread love.

I am a broken record* but nothing is amiss that could not be solved by following the two greatest commandments, to love God and one another.

I post a link to my daily scrawl on Facebook because it’s the modern equivalent of the town square or the general store where people once gathered to discuss the affairs of the day, but it hurts my soul to go there anymore because so many people are there to call each other names and blame the other side for the hate that has infected the political class for decades.

I would rather avoid Facebook altogether, especially because I can’t seem to stop myself exploring what the latest outrage is about. But I feel a need to drop in among the shouters and whisper, “I love you,” in their ear.

The fruit of the Spirit that I have the most trouble with is self-control. I want to post and get on with my day without seeing what horrible things people are saying to each other, but it seems I refuse to control that impulse.

Let me just remind myself, and anyone willing to read this, that we are all children of God unworthy of his love, but he loves us anyway, and we would do well to follow his example. I don’t understand or share your rage, but I love you as a fellow human.

—

* If you are younger, let me know if I need to explain the “broken record” metaphor.

P.S. I am surprised to see I have not yet collected “Where angels dance” into one of my books, but if you would like to read more musings like it, may I suggest A Declaration of Peace or See the World! The links are to ebooks, but you can find the paper editions in the sidebar to your right or by scrolling down on your phone.