greetings from st. george, ut
I’m leaving from St. George, UT this morning. George must be up to his old tricks, because there aren’t any plague-bearing dragons here demanding sheep and children for snacks. As far as I can tell by looking around outside my hotel room door, St. George is defined by palm trees, golf, retirees, and RV parks. It’s a bit like Phoenix, only less so. According to wikipedia, St. George is known as “Utah’s Dixie.” To test this, I walked about whistling Dixie for bit, and as nobody took much notice, I assume that it’s common practice here, thus validating wikipedias peer reviewed information with equally impressive empirical research.
Speaking of research, that’s been one of my favorite things about Foster’s Celebration of Discipline. He tests out the classical spiritual disciplines, and watches to see what effect they have on himself and the world. Where they don’t work, he tries them a different way. If he prays one way, and nothing changes, then he changes how he’s praying. He’s not trying to figure out the right combination to manipulate God (something he warns against), rather he’s letting God teach him through the process, and working out in the everyday of life what is often rendered ascetic and esoteric.
I only ate one meal all day yesterday, but it was at Cracker Barrel, so my caloric intake was about the same as any other day. It’s called “cracker barrel” because if you eat there often, that becomes your body type. But where else can I can pick up some old timey candy (clove gum was yesterday’s treat), play checkers, look at faux memorabilia from products that never existed, browse nicknacks that nobody needs, and eat fried pork chops with eggs?
If things go well, I’ll be in LA, offloading the Uhaul today after lunch. Thanks for all of your prayers.