Whistling Badger Blog

Being a meditation on a Scottish Clan, a Wyoming Distance Race, and the Deeper Meanings Thereof In the extreme northeast corner of Scotland, there is an area of quiet farms and ranches, towering sea cliffs, and tiny fishing towns, where the sea is a constant presence and the wind is more a part of the landscape than a mere meteorological phenomenon.  These hills and coast-lands were once the home of a rather fierce group of Norse-Celtic people who called themselves clan Gunn.  And descended from that clan is a family called the Wilsons. My connection the Gunn clan is sketchy at best, more a matter of choice than historical certainty.  Even my brother, the history teacher, has been thwarted in his efforts to trace our ancestry:  "Wilson" is an absurdly common name, and there are simply too many on the books to sort them all out.  For all this, the Gunn lands felt like home when I visited years ago.  The story of the clan --from its Viking origins, to the grad

I am supposed to be taking a nap right now.  But I can't.  There is something I have to say. I have been mining my Facebook records for fun Katie quotes.  That is the only place I have recorded them, and I want to get them saved somewhere else before FB decides I don't need them anymore.  There are many, and they are hilarious and heartwarming, and I will share them once I get them compiled.  But while looking, I came across the story of January-March, 2011.  The worst time of my life. But that isn't what I need to tell you. I read all of the posts, and all of the comments, mine and yours, from the time Sarah first got sick until the memorial service.  I have laughed and cried a lot this afternoon.  This one entry sort of sums it all up: February 11, 2011 Feels like I'm riding down a raging river--nowhere to pull out; just have to ride with it until it's over--on a lifeboat made of friends: Their prayers, love, hope, and acts of service. Love to you all

...with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace. --Paul's Letter to the Ephesians, 4:2-3 Here is something that has been really driven home to me recently: The trouble with conflict is that everyone involved thinks they are right.  That is so obvious it seems rather hare-brained to even point it out.  But consider the implications: Since I am right, I feel justified hardening my heart, manipulating, bending the truth ever so slightly, raising my voice, or whatever else I need to do.  Because I, after all, am right.  But if the other person does any of these things, they are being unreasonable and unworthy of my efforts.  Because they, after all, are wrong. Since I know my motives are good, I must assume that the motives of the other person are bad.  Having decided that, I form conclusions about not just what the other person is doing, but why.  I feel just