Focusing On The Ball 120.10.14;68;5o13

Love And Peace, Family And Friends.

As I watch the 2 concluding matches of the group stage of this year’s World Cup, I see 1 of the players dance around the ball, Samba-style, trying to mesmerise the pursuing defender.  And whilst it is many decades removed, I am reminded of some of the 1^st lessons that my far and my coaches and my friends teach me about playing different sports.

The 1^st sport that I learn is football;  the sport that is played with the foot and the ball, known by Americans as soccer.  I remember being 6 years old and my far telling me to focus on the ball.  Rather than being swayed by the upper torso or footwork, my far teaches me to concentrate on the movement of the ball and anticipate the possibilities and probabilities of where the ball may travel.  Whilst he abstains from competitively playing football in his youth (his sports are American football and basketball, growing up), my far instils within me basic guidance in athletic competition.  And whilst I am sure the development programmes for advanced football clubs instruct young talent to also focus on player movement and positioning, “focus on the ball” seems to remain sage and basic advice.  It serves me well for nearly a decade and beyond, as I am reintroduced to the sport in my 20’s with friends from around the Earth.

The 2^nd sport that I play, organisationally, is American football.  During my prep school years, I succumb to the American influence.  My junior year, I join the prep school American football shape.  Woefully out of shape and overweight, I am relegated to offensive and defensive line whenever I am promoted from warming the bench.  “Focus on the ball” stays with me, even though I could barely see the ball after it is hiked, and my athletic task increasingly resembles Japanese sumo wrestling.  Knowing the sport as I do, I am aware that NFL players are also trained to read player movements and positioning as a means for preventing unfavourable plays and facilitating favourable manoeuvres.  However, there remains the relevant primary directive:  focus on the ball.

As I progress through university, and as I shed my weight and becoming physically fit, I become increasingly involved with playing pick-up basketball.  I remember playing 1 on 1 with my friend, Todd, and him sharing a pointer that his prep school coach tells him:  watch your opponent’s hips.  The idea is that watching the ball can be tedious and abstains from dictating where the player may necessarily move, particularly amidst cross-overs, behind the back dribbling, and drives towards the basket;  but the hips show where the player is moving, basically.  This significantly helps when guarding 1’s opponent, yet with additional factors like rebounding, stealing the ball, intercepting passes, and anticipating player rotation and additionally, the sage guidance remains:  focus on the ball.

1 of the characteristics that I enjoy about football, and about sport in general, is how basic lessons of sportsmanship and sportswomanship are translatable into actual life and into every profession.  I am reminded how corporations enjoy recruiting recent graduates because student athletes have experience with playing on organised teams and learn how to work with others.  And I particularly appreciate specific practices in football like kicking the ball out when a player is injured, returning the ball to the opposing team after receiving the benefit, helping each other up after a tackle, and exchanging jerseys after a hard-fought match. 

So, I consider how these lessons can translate into our work within our InterFaith Movement.  If the guidance to “focus on the ball” remains True, what is the “ball” within our interFaith work.  Is it compassion, listening, open-mindedness, patience, and/or additionally?  What is THE critical component upon which to concentrate when we carry out this work?  And what are complementary components to consider when focusing on the ball:  is it service orientation, politics, education, meditation, prayer, and/or additionally?

And if interFaith work is to be compared to sport, who is the “opponent” to our interFaith work?  Is it intolerant factions, violence, hatred, our own selfish tendencies, lapses of concentration, and/or additionally?  Who or what are the most significant detractors to our victories within our InterFaith Movement?

And taking the sport analogy further, what is the nature of teamwork in our interFaith activism?  Is it consensus-building, egalitarianism, story-telling, and/or additionally?  What pointers can you provide from your experiences and learning within our InterFaith Movement?

Love And Peace,

Peter.

Where Should The Next Parliament Be Hosted? 120.10.14;68;5o13

Love And Peace, Family And Friends.

Amidst the recent announcement regarding the open bidding for hosting the next Parliament, I pose to you the question:  where do you think the next Parliament should be held?

Up to this point, the Parliament is respectively held in Chicago, Cape Town, Barcelona, and Melbourne.  The Parliament is initially planned to be hosted by Brussels this year, but those plans subside, as apparently do plans for the Parliament to be hosted in México next year.  So, given this history, where should the Parliament be held in its next scheduled iteration 3 years from this point?

1 glaring option is continental Asia:  perhaps India, with its richness of religious tradition and pluralism, as well as interFaith activism.  Can China effectively host such a conference, perhaps in Hong Kong or Shanghai?  What about Singapore, Thailand, or Malaysia?

Then, there is the often overlooked Southwestern Quad (South America or South Taínoterranea).  Should Brasil (perhaps São Paulo or Rio) host another major World event, amidst the current World Cup, the next Olympics (in 2 years), and the annual Rio Earth Summit?  What about Buenos Aires or another try with México, a little further North?

Then there is the question, is the Middle East ready to host such an event of reconciliation and camaraderie?  Qatar is scheduled to host the World Cup in 8 years;  is Doha an option for the Parliament?  Or perhaps the UAE?  The king of Jordan is a strong supporter of interFaith reconciliation;  does that make Amman a viable option, amidst the nearby turmoil?  Or can a Parliament actually be convened within the infrastructure of Israel, perhaps in Tel Aviv? 

What fortitude must Parliament attendees have to travel to a location that may be increasingly challenging?  Do Parliament attendees have a responsibility for stretching our comfort zones in visiting locations that may be increasingly challenging for us?

Is the Parliament due to be hosted, again, within the ample arms of the United States or Canada?  What about the similar welcome of Northern Europe?  Or is it another moment for Africa, perhaps Ghana or Kenya?

That seems to cover many of the bases.  What do you think about any of these options?  Aside from the obvious concerns of facility capacity, security, and infrastructure, what additional characteristics should be considered in determining the next host?  Is diversity of location and culture relevant?  Should the location be English-speaking or another language or does it make a difference?  Are you planning to attend the Parliament in 3 years?  Where would you like to go?

Love And Peace,

Peter.

World Cup Consideration 120.10.14;68;5o13

Love And Peace, Family And Friends.

Which is better:  the 1st week of the World Cup or the final week of the World Cup?

Love And Peace,

Peter.

To My Wife 26

I am sitting in a coffeehouse at night.  I can see flashing lights around me, but there seems to be little, genuine guidance.  It is early in the evening, and I can see passing cars carrying out the early evening plots.  And I am provided with another opportunity to think of you.  Perhaps it is selfish of me:  to compartmentalise your temporal existence within the confines of an inflated imagination that frequently only flexes when the pragmatic concerns of this Universe are temporarily abated.  Yet I also know that you exist within everything I do.  And I wonder whether you can see me within everything that you do.  That may be presumptuous of me, yet this entire dialogue may be considered presumptuous.  Perhaps it is simply precipitous.  How can we facilitate serendipity.  How much do I lend myself to influences, and how much do I assert the illusion of my free will and ego.  As I write this, I am challenged by the distractions around me;  the competing conversations, the music, the baristas.  I wonder how much the people around me may be contrary to our union.  I presume many would communicate severe indifference, yet this indifference is a vote to the contrary as well.  Yet it is this very people, this very scene that connects us-  the semi-progressive, intellectual, secular international community, as it respectively exists within our respective vicinities.  I struggle for the solution, to gain support from people who are perceived as different from me to marry a woman who is also perceived as different from the people, as well.  My experience shows me there are ways to broaden the perspective and align with institutions that bring people like us together.  And as I write this, a friend from the baristas offers me a pen to solve my challenges in actually writing this.  Answers can arrive in the most immediate of manners.  So I let the stream of consciousness continue.  And, again, I think of you;  where you are at this moment;  what you are doing and with whom you are doing it.  You may also be at a coffeehouse, the Sun still offering remnants of its light during your Summer.  You may be with friends at a restaurant or reading a book.  I try to think of how I can connect with that and preserve as much as I can.  Maybe you are already closer to me, in a nearby land.  In some ways that is easier, yet it is increasingly difficult for me to see.  I think about typing the letters and posting it to a blog.  I run the risk of people thinking I am crazy, but people already do that anyways.  I think that you may be able to find it and learn additionally about me.  Or perhaps someone who knows you sees it and thinks of you.  There is little to lose and much to gain, though the probability seems desperately low.  Perhaps you are studying for a class and you take a break to find me.  I think about previous letters and the scenario that is already written.  Yet I have little patience for that.  My plans to attend the World Cup this year at your home are growing dim and I struggle to think of another way of seeing and building your homeland.  The Buddha tells a story of a man who proclaims love for the most beautiful woman in the land without even knowing who she is or previously meeting her.  He calls this talk of his witless, like a man building a staircase to a house that abstains from existing.  Yet it seems that I have an imagination that challenges the scrutiny of the Buddha.  Sometimes it seems that is much of who I am – the challenger.  Always struggling for a cause, and perhaps becoming enveloped in a self-righteous peak that isolates me from imperfection.  Yet, I readily acknowledge my imperfections, and I lament how these imperfections challenge my union with you.  And it would be difficult to further this stream of conscious without referencing my back.  Stream of consciousness complete.  I return to pensiveness.  I wonder what we may be able to do in an actuality that combines my vision, your vision, and the Universe.  I have difficulty seeing ourselves pursue the suburban grind, looking for private schools for our children, God Willing.  I see our school, Asona Academy, being built or at the very least home-schooling our children.  Then we must decide where we live.  Again, avoiding the urban grind, perhaps we can find ourselves within our uNi Village or somewhere near this dream.

To My Wife 25

I am sitting in a coffeehouse at night.  I can see flashing lights around me, but there seems to be little, genuine guidance.  It is early in the evening, and I can see passing cars carrying out the early evening plots.  And I am provided with another opportunity to think of you.  Perhaps it is selfish of me:  to compartmentalise your temporal existence within the confines of an inflated imagination that frequently only flexes when the pragmatic concerns of this Universe are temporarily abated.  Yet I also know that you exist within everything I do.  And I wonder whether you can see me within everything that you do.  That may be presumptuous of me, yet this entire dialogue may be considered presumptuous.  Perhaps it is simply precipitous.  How can we facilitate serendipity.  How much do I lend myself to influences, and how much do I assert the illusion of my free will and ego.  As I write this, I am challenged by the distractions around me;  the competing conversations, the music, the baristas.  I wonder how much the people around me may be contrary to our union.  I presume many would communicate severe indifference, yet this indifference is a vote to the contrary as well.  Yet it is this very people, this very scene that connects us-  the semi-progressive, intellectual, secular international community, as it respectively exists within our respective vicinities.  I struggle for the solution, to gain support from people who are perceived as different from me to marry a woman who is also perceived as different from the people, as well.  My experience shows me there are ways to broaden the perspective and align with institutions that bring people like us together.  And as I write this, a friend from the baristas offers me a pen to solve my challenges in actually writing this.  Answers can arrive in the most immediate of manners.  So I let the stream of consciousness continue.  And, again, I think of you;  where you are at this moment;  what you are doing and with whom you are doing it.  You may also be at a coffeehouse, the Sun still offering remnants of its light during your Summer.  You may be with friends at a restaurant or reading a book.  I try to think of how I can connect with that and preserve as much as I can.  Maybe you are already closer to me, in a nearby land.  In some ways that is easier, yet it is increasingly difficult for me to see.  I think about typing the letters and posting it to a blog.  I run the risk of people thinking I am crazy, but people already do that anyways.  I think that you may be able to find it and learn additionally about me.  Or perhaps someone who knows you sees it and thinks of you.  There is little to lose and much to gain, though the probability seems desperately low.  Perhaps you are studying for a class and you take a break to find me.  I think about previous letters and the scenario that is already written.  Yet I have little patience for that.  My plans to attend the World Cup this year at your home are growing dim and I struggle to think of another way of seeing and building your homeland.  The Buddha tells a story of a man who proclaims love for the most beautiful woman in the land without even knowing who she is or previously meeting her.  He calls this talk of his witless, like a man building a staircase to a house that abstains from existing.  Yet it seems that I have an imagination that challenges the scrutiny of the Buddha.  Sometimes it seems that is much of who I am – the challenger.  Always struggling for a cause, and perhaps becoming enveloped in a self-righteous peak that isolates me from imperfection.  Yet, I readily acknowledge my imperfections, and I lament how these imperfections challenge my union with you.  And it would be difficult to further this stream of conscious without referencing my back.  Stream of consciousness complete.  I return to pensiveness.  I wonder what we may be able to do in an actuality that combines my vision, your vision, and the Universe.  I have difficulty seeing ourselves pursue the suburban grind, looking for private schools for our children, God Willing.  I see our school, Asona Academy, being built or at the very least home-schooling our children.  Then we must decide where we live.  Again, avoiding the urban grind, perhaps we can find ourselves within our uNi Village or somewhere near this dream.

To My Wife 24

Our history is filled with rapacity

until Now.

Shh

We can do better than that

We can do better than that

We Are Better than that

We are better than that

And we will be better again

And we will be better again

By the Grace of God

Amen

Amen

To My Wife 23

Generation

I knew you

when you are a bud,

swaying

in the morning air;

amidst a dark green Sky

and a hint of Sun.

You arrive

with promise of Spring

filling branches previously bare

Back then,

you leave spaces

where I can see

the passing traffic

The birds sing

and the dawn approaches

I can see

Your formidable shape

as you become

broad and open leaf.

You fill the air

with essence

that heals

and refreshes.

You are the evidence

of a miracle

Divine.