The night after we put the house on the market in April, I was raised, as they say in Freemasonry, to the Sublime Degree of Master Mason. It was one of the more interesting and meaningful journeys I had taken to that point.
These have not been the easiest six months in my life. Not that they were particularly difficult, just stressful. We had a wedding, a planning process I was not prepared for. I spent three weeks laid up with poison ivy (they gave me steroids and everything). The house didn’t sell, and now we’re deciding whether to sell it to a real estate investment company (read more on how that works here) or whether to start going through the process of trying to get it rented. Whichever we choose, it will help us to figure out our next chapter.
There are other things, too, perhaps more personal, that I won’t get into. At any rate, things in the Shear household have been largely chaotic for a while, and to this point, the lessons of Masonry have been a good focus.
I have a long journey ahead in the Craft. I’ve delved into some local Masonic history. I’ve read some old books. I’ve held some old documents. Looked at the minutes of meetings of my Lodge from right about the time of the Civil War. I’ve spent most days this week at the lodge building, digging through the archives, sorting through piles of history that have been shoved in drawers and forgotten. I folded a flag with 45 stars (that puts it between 1896 and 1908). I hung an apron worn by a brother who was raised in 1912.
With the wind and the rain and the leaves and the cinnamon of the season, the dust feels warm, and being alone among the artifacts is a good reminder in a fast-paced, post-Empire world crying for novelty, adherence to ritual is just as important.
Without going too deeply into the more mundane details, Freemasonry, or speculative Masonry, uses the working tools of operative stonemasons to help us be better humans. The tools offer great lessons, and I’ve needed them a lot these past few months. The two-foot ruler reminds me to set aside time for the important things. The common gavel is used to chip away the stuff I just don’t need. The square, to remember to be fair to everybody, especially in this time when we’re trying to transact business.
“But what about your secrets?” I hear you cry. Here, give last week’s Whence Came You? a listen. You needn’t be a Freemason. You needn’t want to be. I think it has great life secrets for all.