Every so often, I’ll be cleaning up my hard-drive and I’ll come across this picture of my great-great grandfather, Rev. John H. Parks.
I so see my grandmother and some of her siblings in this man’s eyes. I see some of my mom’s first cousins, and selfishly I look to see if I can see myself, though I know I look mostly like my dad’s people.
Often I wonder what it must have been like for this deeply spiritual man to try to not only to preach his beliefs but also to manage the business aspects of the religious denomination he pioneered in the backwoods of Eastern Tennessee.
What was balance like for him?
All those children, the church, the constant demands for his time from parishioners, the maintenance of his spiritual condition which undoubtedly required times of silence and even isolation.
Life on this plane is tricky sometimes. But it’s where we are, now. We must contend with it on its terms for the duration of our time here.
The flavor of the beliefs are often different but I suppose folks who walk a spiritual path are often confronted with similar concerns.
Peace to all my fellow travelers tonight.
And so it is.
The Anonymous Mystic 