Progressing

On Sunday I added a couple of sentences to the "about me" section of my blog profile: "I think I'm making progress [in finding out who I am]. How about you [in finding out who you are]?"

Then I went out and did a bit of gardening. As you may recall, the garden is my own personal church. Out there I found myself spontaneously recognizing that I seem to have made some progress in "finding out who I am." I reflected that I had in recent days written a first-person report of a miracle and would shortly post another such report, this time of two angelic interventions. I reflected that I had just affirmed publicly on my blog my friendship with Tom Sheepandgoats (of the "Sheep and Goats" blog), with whom I suppose I have mostly seemed to be at odds ever since he visited my blog several months ago and we started to dispute about divine revelation. We are still not in agreement about that, anymore than I am with another friend whom Tom introduced me to, who wisely suggested that she and I "agree to disagree." I speak of Maliha (of the "Lightness of Being...forever in flight" blog: forever in flight from the mundane, the meaningless), who is also very skeptical of my skepticism. To her the things I'm skeptical of are "just obvious."

But I feel close to both of these people (whom, you understand, I've never met in person). I respect them, and I think, despite my being less tactful and generous than they are, that they respect me. Our hearts somehow—and large territories of our minds—seem to be in the same place.

Out in the garden, I was remembering that early in my correspondence with Tom, he bravely offered that I might be willing to sit down to dinner with him for friendly conversation. I am embarrassed to admit it, but—for the sake of honest self-disclosure—I do admit that I rudely rebuffed him. Tom, I apologize for that. The fact that you are still with me is eloquent testimony of your character. I hope that you might still feel inclined to that dinner. And Maliha, for her part, says, "I wouldn't be surprised if someday Tom, you, and I found ourselves sitting across a dinner table and chuckling over some of our correspondences. It would be a fine day indeed."

Chalk up to the civilizing influence of these two persons that I too now incline to that dinner conversation—as good evidence as I can offer that, in fact, I am making progress.