Sunday musings

What a perfect Sunday.  I woke to hazy sunshine which morphed to clouds during the time it took to shower and cleanse my being.  Now it is raining very quietly over the villa and the valley.  Quiet, slow, and soothing – the best way to do sabbath.

I ate my breakfast with the sound of the fountain presenting peace as I drank my cuppa and had the villa to myself as all the rest slept.  Before everyone else awoke, I went back to my room.  Doing needlework to procrastinate the opening of my new watercolors and pens.  But I conquered the fear and did a little rendering of a small portion of the landscape I view everytime I peer out my window.  I need lots of work, but at least I have started.

Now I have eased my spirit into pondering.  So here I sit gathering my thoughts and impressions from the past week, trying to synthesize random thoughts into a semblance of meaning.

The biggest cultural disconnect for me has not been the USA vs Italy or school life vs. retirement.  It has been the difference between those age 19 and those of us over age 60 – actually even those of us who are over 35.  I feel as if I am visiting a foreign country.  I have read articles about this generation.  I have met some of those forerunners who are in their mid twenties as I have done training for those in leadership positions.  But the experience of living in this foreign land has made the differences amongst us plainly visible.

What has struck me the most in this arena is the lack of any knowledge of our shared civilization as passed along in stories.  No recognition of the names or actions of gods and goddesses of either Greece or Rome.  No glimmer of familiarity with basic Bible stories except the creation and Noah’s ark – not even Joseph’s coat, so their knowledge of musical theater isn’t too great either.  No concept of the march of history, even or especially events from WWII to the present.

Maurizo started his time with our group by pointing out the location of the Roman theater below the piazza.  I never knew it was there.   Everything we know of Florence was built on top of that foundation.  That was his metaphor for the necessity of understanding what comes before in order to engineer new buildings today that will stand in the future.  The choices we make about what we keep and what we bury or leave buried are not to be made lightly because they influence the stability and durability of what remains for the future.

Yet our educational system in a few short decades has already put us on a path to a future without the milieu of the arts, stories, and collective wisdom of the past.  Instead we are relying on technology and communication void of personal interaction.  On the streets, in the trains, in the tourist spots I see the young interested mostly in their phones – talking, listening, and playing with “social” media.  I am glad we have some here in this program absorbing and interacting witth a world they do not yet know.  They are bright and adventurous and full of life – hope for the future.  Yes, they are wrapped around their technologies, but they are now playing cards together, talking late into the night, and creating art of all sorts as the rain blocks our exit into the world.

Another surprise for my soul has been my reaction to their not knowing Biblical references.  I have lived my doubts of Christianity, my walking back of church, and my reliance on a more mystical relationship with the Greater.  These are my choices made because I could make choices because I had alternatives programmed into my psyche.

The Gospel stories showing compassion, kindness, community, belief, God, struggle, grief, and radical equality were shared and modeled for me.  An incredible body of art has been created to aid in the passing along of this story we consider foundational for western civilization.  Without the meaning of the story the art has just become a surface upon which the techniques are utilized to produce more and more accurate forms of the human body.  This seems to me to be the equivalent to selfies – surface vs. depth.  I have actually found myself wanting to teach the sories for the first time i a long time…an unintended consequence for sure!

I haven’t decided if I am angry, or fearful, or sorrowful about all of this.  I am definitely not amused nor condoning of the direction we are taking as a culture.  My passion is meaning-making.  Everything, to me, has to point to something beyond.  So if we take away story and community, how do I help create meaning?  What forms of communication do I need to learn to make connection?  How do we share with the latest generation our vast common heritage?  Do they want to learn? 

Well, it is almost time for lunch.  That is definitely one aspect of civilization we all share and enjoy!  I shall happily sit at table with my fellow seekers of all ages.  It is a good place to start journeying together.