the inner ring

The more things change, the more they remain the same

The other day I went to renew my driver’s license. As I was filling out the form, I realized that not much had changed in the 5 years since my last license renewal. My address remains the same, I’m still the same height, I still require corrective lenses, I’m relatively the same weight (apparently I put on 4 pounds along the way), and I wear the same shirt.

That’s right, when I reviewed the digital photograph they took of me, I was surprised to see that I was wearing the exact same green polo shirt as my previous picture. Of course, my hairline has changed a bit, but even my picture appears the same.

I paused for a moment to think about all that has transpired in my life over the last 5 years and the many ways–small and large–that I am different than that 30-year-old version of myself. In the end, I came to the conclusion that I’m glad not all my life changes can be summed up on a driver’s license.

    Not thinking = think no evil?

    Frustrated today by the seemingly endless desire for some people to aggressively protect themselves from thoughts that may challenge their ideologically-confined worldview, I again turned to Billy Collins for humor and poignancy while attempting to understand this odd phenomenon of pursuing ignorance out of fear of what may result from considering something “different.”

    “See No Evil”

    No one expected all three of them
    to sit there on their tree stumps forever,
    their senses covered with their sinuous paws
    so as to shut out the vile, nefarious world.

    As it happened,
    it was the one on the left
    who was the first to desert his post,
    uncupping his ears,
    then loping off into the orbit of rumors and lies,
    but also into the realm of symphonies,
    the sound of water tumbling over rocks
    and wind stirring the leafy domes of trees.

    Then the monkey on the right lowered his hands
    from his wide mouth and slipped away
    in search of someone he could talk to,
    some news he could spread,
    maybe something to curse or shout about.

    And that left the monkey in the middle
    alone with his silent vigil,
    shielding his eyes from depravity’s spectacle,
    blind to the man whipping his horse,
    the woman shaking her baby in the air,
    but also unable to see
    the russet sun on a rough shelf of rock
    and apples in the grass at the base of a tree.

    Sometimes, he wonders about the other two,
    listens for the faint sounds of their breathing
    up there on the mantel
    alongside the clock and the candlesticks.

    And some nights in the quiet house
    he wishes he could break the silence with a question,

    but he knows the one on his right
    will not be able to hear,
    and the one to his left,
    according to their sacred oath–
    the one they all took with one paw raised–
    is forbidden forever to speak, even in reply.

    – Billy Collins

    From The Trouble with Poetry: And Other Poems. Random House, 2005.

      My Apologies

      As a Christian and as a Minnesotan, I feel the need to apologize for recent comments from members of my faith and my home state. All I can truly offer is to say that not all Christians and not all Minnesotans are this small-minded.

      Christians, as all U.S. citizens, are free to vote for the candidate they feel will best serve as President, whether this be Sen. Obama or Sen. McCain; Minnesotans, as all U.S. citizens, are free to vote for the candidate they feel will best serve as President, whether this be Sen. Obama or Sen. McCain. But, please, do not assume that all Christians vote Republican or that all Minnesotans think Barack Obama is anything other than a U.S. citizen, a member of Congress, and a candidate for the Presidency of the United States of America.