It is amazing to me how cathartic (insert long thoughtful pause), and even therapuetic this process of blogging might become. In life there are moments that come along that are so richly inbued with emotions that the need to share them (perhaps to hold them up for introspetion and to share the revelations that ensue) is just overwhelming. I have just risen from bed at 2 AM to purge (imagine all the other colorful words I might have used instead of purge....) my thoughts on a yearly ritual from the deeper recessess of my physche. Lucky you.....
I have thought about this years first Christmas enduced moment of instability (every year at Christmas there seems to be several moments when "the season" just creeps up and suddenly overwhelms my emotional defences). As I relay this I have a mental picture of a peaceful early American settlement with an imposing wood stockade surrounding a small peaceful village. Within the stockade the residents all sleep in their individual cabins, all confident in the security of their constructed defences. They are safe, and all is well. Deep in the night creeping out of the woods with just the reflection of the moonlight off their bare backs comes the native raiding party, obviously intent on wrecking the villagers idylic existance. Their faces are dark masks indistingquishable in the dark. Slowly and unbidden they approach the village, crawl over the wall and disperse throughout the village, until in total surprise they spring upon the residents and wreck total destruction. Incredible metaphor for what seems to happen to my emotions at Christmas. My usual peaceful and steady emotional stability comes under devastating attack............................................. and I cherish the experience each and every time it repeats itself.
I suspect everyone who has spent much time in my company has to know (or at least suspect) this particular seasonal emotional instability. It is an afliction as obvious as any physical handicap, and I wear it particularly proudly. Comments like "There goes Dad again..." are not exactly a rarity. Nor I suspect are they totally in sync with just Christmas, but it is certain that at Christmas I am most vulnerable.
What event has brought on this moment of introspection? Please picture a middle aged (OK, maybe I flatter myself, picture an old man..... me) sitting at his computer sifting through data that needs to be reviewed for his job. He is listening to his computers collection of music, letting it randomly select from a sizable collection of diffent genre (mostly a reflection of his life, meaning mostly rock from the 60's through today). Suddenly he is aware of the lead in melody to a Christmas song, but not just any song, one lammenting and questioning "Where are you Christmas?". His attention is obviously shifted, and suddenly his eyes unfocus and he is obviously being carried away by the music. See him slowly reduced to tears, not just wet eyes, but more like a small boy sobbing as if his whole world is ending....... the old man and boy are one in the same.
Again, my eyes swim. Why? Why should the sentiment of this song illicit such an overwhelming responce. Guess that is what has gotten me out of bed. I need to roll around my thoughts on the subject for anyone who happens this way.
First, at risk of coppyright infringement, the words to the song ask:
Where are you Christmas?
Why can't I find you?
Why have you gone away?
Where is the laughter you used to bring me?
Why can't I hear music play?
My world is changing, I'm rearranging.
Does that mean Christmas changes too?
Where are you Christmas?
Do you remember the one you used to know?
I'm not the same one. See what the times done?
Is that why you let me go?
OK, time to try and compose myself. It is introspection time now. Why such poignancy in those words? They manage to touch my very soul. The cry of a lost soul for innocence lost.? As we age do we loose something of tremendous value...... the ability to blindly hope, unconditionally love, the ability to see magic in everything? Do we have to loose the desire to want to just play? Take a moment, close your eyes and try to touch that time when you existed in a world whereby you were most in touch with your soul? I am betting it was when you were a child. Remember when the world was brighter? Each day full of promise? Each new rising sun brought wonder and the expectation of something new and exciting? When was the last time you stood in total fascination of life? Christmas hits me there. I know so many who have lost the "childliness" in their existance. What loss is there more grievous? Did I cry for them?
I have made no secret that my Mother has a most childlike way of approaching life. More so than anyone I know. This is not a critism, matter of fact it is the most sincere compliment I have perhaps ever offered. That might be her one overwhelming gift to my Father, perhaps even her greatest gift to life. It certainly is her greatest tribute to her faith. Her exuberance has certainly managed to infect me. Nor am I alone. She is most contagious. I know my siblings have that childlike exuberance. A willingness to play. No, not just a willingness, a heart song that demands we play. My sister lives in a constant state of "ready to play". It is a trait I admire and cherish. It is always there in her eyes. They dance for joy constantly. It is her greatest testiment to her faith as well.
I think we have passed this same trait on to our own "next generation". I know my daughter knows how to play. It is obvious, and her most attractive trait (at least the one I treasure most). I pray to God I am a carrier of that "childlike" trait. The thought that I might loose it causes more dread in my heart than loosing a limb. I rank it along side loosing a loved one. It is a wound to the soul for which there is no prosthesis. It would be like loosing "me". At least the part of me I most cherish. The loss would be unbearable. Maybe I cried for me?
I have a friend that shared a truth that she thought it was easier to find Christmas when there are children involved. There was truth in that statement, but I suspect more than she knew. Little ones have the magic. They live in the magic, hell they might BE the magic. As we get older we gradually loose touch with that magic; that ability to see life like a child. You can see in some that it is now totally lost. Existance for them is vanilla. It is reflected in how they live. They lost their innocence, their optimism, their willingness to play....... they lost their ability to be "childlike". Seems to me to be a life without "joy". My friend was right, for Christmas to be magical it requires a child. Matter of fact, I suspect it requires two. The reason for the season (the Child born over two centuries ago), and the one I hope you can find in the mirror. Somewhere in all of us there still resides a child. It is our individual responsibility to find, nuture, and love that child of God. Oh most merciful Father, if I could wish for everyone I love anything, I pray they might find both children this Christmas. Maybe, it was for you I wept?
Maybe it is for children being forced to abandon their innocence far to soon? We should never allow ourselves to be blinded to the plight of so many..... A reminder of how very blessed I should always remember I have been? Maybe it was for the innocent I cried?
Whatever the reason, I think I should close with a warning....... If you do succeed in finding your own inner child, watch out for those plundering Indians.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
To Ms Landry
There was a quiet little woman that found her way into my thoughts today. She was an elderly neighbor. A small woman, looking very much like the old news reals from Eastern Europe showing the elderly and children amoungst the bombed out countryside, she was our own time machine to a time in Europe that most only read about.
A woman of German descent, when she met her husband the second world war was just coming to an end. He was an American serviceman, and she a native German. When first they met he spoke not a word of German, nor did she speak a word of English. Still, they somehow managed to conquer the language barrier as they managed to spend a lifetime together. When I first met them her husband was already in poor health. Matter of fact, he was almost impossible to understand. He was old, sickly, and totally wheelchair bound. She was still active and involved in life. I suspect she must have been lonely often.
Her family still resided in Germany, and with her husbands poor health and limited resources it was unlikely that she would ever travel to Germany again. Her family did travel to see her on rare occasions, but for her a trip "home" was not in the cards. As I travel alot, I have spent some time in Germany. There was a candy she said she loved so I would get her bags of it each stop in Frankfurt. I also managed to bring home a collection or two of German Christmas music. In return she tried allways to bake a little something special. Most everything she brought to the house was eaten before I ever got so much as a bite.
Long ago her husband passed away, and still most days you could find her out in her small yard tending to her plants. Bent over at the waist, there she would be tending to whatever plant needed attention. We all had a passion for gardening, so it was not unusual for us all to share whatever cuttings or leftovers we had. She was always most appreciative of whatever was offered. It was a point of honor that she show you how whatever she had inherited was doing in her yard. It was not a large yard, but was well kept and pristine. Even when her arthritis got so bad that for days she would stay inside, always when the pain was gone (or at least lessened to bearable levels) she could be found back in her garden.
Eventually my mother-in-law moved in next door, and they shared some time together. In the words of Billy Joel "sharing a drink they call lonliness, but it's better than drinking alone...". Come to think of it, usually whenever Ms Landry was working in her yard somewhere by her feet was my daughters cat. Maybe she wasn't so all alone afterall?
We shared several Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners with her. She was always so enthusiastic and appreciative. Evidently her family had been quite musical as she always shared that they used to all sing and play different musical instruments together. She was always anxious to share in singing Christmas music. I remember her taking out her accordian and playing for us. There is something you do not see much anymore, an accordian virtuoso.
Today, sitting in the Leipzig train station watching the people coming home from work she was suddenly on my mind. Leipzig is no different than most cities in northern latitudes. It gets dark early, and fall is certainly in the air. Stilll, the German "flavor" is most evident. It is not so much what the people wear, it is their overall culture. The stores all have the beginnings of Christmas wares, and believe it or not, there is a difference in what we use to decorate or homes at Christmas. It is chilly outside, and the leaves are past their full fall color. There are still alot of leaves hanging from the trees, but the spaces between them is perpetually growing. The grip of any leaves left is tenuous. With each little whisp of a breeze you can hear the dried leaves rustling. That unique smell of fall is in everything. The train station was full of wonderful aromas. The many fruit markets, the different grills offering different brats and sausages were all filling the air with sweet smells of bounty. I sat there and wondered if she would find it familiar.
I sometimes think we can call the spirits of those we love to us by thinking of them...... I hope it is true. Wherever she is, I hope she knows she is fondly remembered. God bless her.
A woman of German descent, when she met her husband the second world war was just coming to an end. He was an American serviceman, and she a native German. When first they met he spoke not a word of German, nor did she speak a word of English. Still, they somehow managed to conquer the language barrier as they managed to spend a lifetime together. When I first met them her husband was already in poor health. Matter of fact, he was almost impossible to understand. He was old, sickly, and totally wheelchair bound. She was still active and involved in life. I suspect she must have been lonely often.
Her family still resided in Germany, and with her husbands poor health and limited resources it was unlikely that she would ever travel to Germany again. Her family did travel to see her on rare occasions, but for her a trip "home" was not in the cards. As I travel alot, I have spent some time in Germany. There was a candy she said she loved so I would get her bags of it each stop in Frankfurt. I also managed to bring home a collection or two of German Christmas music. In return she tried allways to bake a little something special. Most everything she brought to the house was eaten before I ever got so much as a bite.
Long ago her husband passed away, and still most days you could find her out in her small yard tending to her plants. Bent over at the waist, there she would be tending to whatever plant needed attention. We all had a passion for gardening, so it was not unusual for us all to share whatever cuttings or leftovers we had. She was always most appreciative of whatever was offered. It was a point of honor that she show you how whatever she had inherited was doing in her yard. It was not a large yard, but was well kept and pristine. Even when her arthritis got so bad that for days she would stay inside, always when the pain was gone (or at least lessened to bearable levels) she could be found back in her garden.
Eventually my mother-in-law moved in next door, and they shared some time together. In the words of Billy Joel "sharing a drink they call lonliness, but it's better than drinking alone...". Come to think of it, usually whenever Ms Landry was working in her yard somewhere by her feet was my daughters cat. Maybe she wasn't so all alone afterall?
We shared several Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners with her. She was always so enthusiastic and appreciative. Evidently her family had been quite musical as she always shared that they used to all sing and play different musical instruments together. She was always anxious to share in singing Christmas music. I remember her taking out her accordian and playing for us. There is something you do not see much anymore, an accordian virtuoso.
Today, sitting in the Leipzig train station watching the people coming home from work she was suddenly on my mind. Leipzig is no different than most cities in northern latitudes. It gets dark early, and fall is certainly in the air. Stilll, the German "flavor" is most evident. It is not so much what the people wear, it is their overall culture. The stores all have the beginnings of Christmas wares, and believe it or not, there is a difference in what we use to decorate or homes at Christmas. It is chilly outside, and the leaves are past their full fall color. There are still alot of leaves hanging from the trees, but the spaces between them is perpetually growing. The grip of any leaves left is tenuous. With each little whisp of a breeze you can hear the dried leaves rustling. That unique smell of fall is in everything. The train station was full of wonderful aromas. The many fruit markets, the different grills offering different brats and sausages were all filling the air with sweet smells of bounty. I sat there and wondered if she would find it familiar.
I sometimes think we can call the spirits of those we love to us by thinking of them...... I hope it is true. Wherever she is, I hope she knows she is fondly remembered. God bless her.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
God bless us all, everyone......
Just the other day Becca let us know that the time for her first grandchild to make it's grand entrance was no longer some mythical day way off somewhere in the future. It was now. Today. She has so looked forward to this moment, and as with so many wonderful things in life happening to those we love, we were along for the ride.
Another miracle. So many times I have seen adults with children grown and on their own reduced to walking tapioca by the birth of a grandchild. The love is evident in each picture. To once again have what you thought was your reality rearranged by the smallest of packages is something miraculous. The "glow" on each adult face is obvious. The changes for the parents is easy to understand, but for the extended family the shift in perspective is a little surprising. Grandparents remember anew what it was like when their own children were born. Somehow the ensuing period as children make their way into adulthood tends to take the lustre off the memory of when they first arrived....... all the way till a grand child is placed into your arms. The same connection as when you first laid eyes on your own is suddenly no longer a memory. It is again immediate, and just like before, totally overwhelming.
Little Olivia, welcome. It will be most of a lifetime before you could ever hope to fully realize the wonder of your arrival on the hearts of so many. Some day in the future you will laugh and cry as a little one you collaborated with God to create comes into this world. For the first time you will fully understand and fully comprehend just what your own arrival did for your parents. If you are blessed you will maybe see the day your grandchildren are born. Maybe then you will know what your birth did to your Granny Becca, and will realize just how much she loved you. Maybe the reason we use analogies for God as a parent is because the closest we come to experiencing that total uncompromising and absolute love we attribute to God is when we are confronted with a newborn.
Thanks be that the cycle never ends.
Another miracle. So many times I have seen adults with children grown and on their own reduced to walking tapioca by the birth of a grandchild. The love is evident in each picture. To once again have what you thought was your reality rearranged by the smallest of packages is something miraculous. The "glow" on each adult face is obvious. The changes for the parents is easy to understand, but for the extended family the shift in perspective is a little surprising. Grandparents remember anew what it was like when their own children were born. Somehow the ensuing period as children make their way into adulthood tends to take the lustre off the memory of when they first arrived....... all the way till a grand child is placed into your arms. The same connection as when you first laid eyes on your own is suddenly no longer a memory. It is again immediate, and just like before, totally overwhelming.
Little Olivia, welcome. It will be most of a lifetime before you could ever hope to fully realize the wonder of your arrival on the hearts of so many. Some day in the future you will laugh and cry as a little one you collaborated with God to create comes into this world. For the first time you will fully understand and fully comprehend just what your own arrival did for your parents. If you are blessed you will maybe see the day your grandchildren are born. Maybe then you will know what your birth did to your Granny Becca, and will realize just how much she loved you. Maybe the reason we use analogies for God as a parent is because the closest we come to experiencing that total uncompromising and absolute love we attribute to God is when we are confronted with a newborn.
Thanks be that the cycle never ends.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Drive safe
The spoken word. George Carlin loved to point out the shortcomings in our most fundamental method of communication. Besides finding Carlin hilarious, I have wondered at the frailties and dangers involved in speaking. So often I know what I meant, but am quite aware that those to whom I am speaking missed the point. An example: A woman says "Do these pants make my butt look big?" Is she truly asking for a fashion opinion? Is she fishing for a compliment (maybe she has lost weight and wants someone to notice)? Or, as most men read the question, is she saying "We haven't had a fight in awhile.....". Maybe even all three.
So, what we say is full of nuances. It is subject to interpretation. This became obvious to me recently. At the end of another blessed reunion, the beginning of the goodbyes were commenced with the usual reluctance and anxiety for those looking at two days in the car with kids at that age that excess calories drive the beloved offspring into fits of irational behavior calling for immediate diagnosis of ADHD, ADD, and three or four other hyper active disorders. This usually requires the immediate administration of drugs (for the parents). Kids in the car, even with video machines, toys, frequent stops, snacks prepared, and a grandparent or two along for morale support are a form of torture even the Pol Pot regime would consider cruel and inhumane.
So, everyone is saying goodbye. As we are huggers, there are embraces all around. We have spent a weekend loving and sharing as best as we can. There has been alot of eating, alot of visiting, some tears, some laughs, and alot of loving. The time has come to part. The individual cars are packed, again, some more hugs, and waves. The last words are almost always along the line of "Drive safe." I watched it again and again....... "Drive safe."
So, on the oft chance one of you read this, let me translate "Drive safe." It means:
"You are leaving, and while I am most thankful for the time together, right now I am feeling particularly low. I have just realized how important you are to my life, and your leaving is leaving a crater bigger than Montana in my heart. This may be the last time I ever see your face, and while I thank God for the experience, it hurts to say bye. I thank you for being here. You are taking with you a large portion of who I am, or hope to be. I already said I love you....... but damnit, at the risk of being redundant, I still do. I pray God be with you and hold you till we meet again. I am going to miss you........ did I tell you I love you?"
ya'll drive safe.
So, what we say is full of nuances. It is subject to interpretation. This became obvious to me recently. At the end of another blessed reunion, the beginning of the goodbyes were commenced with the usual reluctance and anxiety for those looking at two days in the car with kids at that age that excess calories drive the beloved offspring into fits of irational behavior calling for immediate diagnosis of ADHD, ADD, and three or four other hyper active disorders. This usually requires the immediate administration of drugs (for the parents). Kids in the car, even with video machines, toys, frequent stops, snacks prepared, and a grandparent or two along for morale support are a form of torture even the Pol Pot regime would consider cruel and inhumane.
So, everyone is saying goodbye. As we are huggers, there are embraces all around. We have spent a weekend loving and sharing as best as we can. There has been alot of eating, alot of visiting, some tears, some laughs, and alot of loving. The time has come to part. The individual cars are packed, again, some more hugs, and waves. The last words are almost always along the line of "Drive safe." I watched it again and again....... "Drive safe."
So, on the oft chance one of you read this, let me translate "Drive safe." It means:
"You are leaving, and while I am most thankful for the time together, right now I am feeling particularly low. I have just realized how important you are to my life, and your leaving is leaving a crater bigger than Montana in my heart. This may be the last time I ever see your face, and while I thank God for the experience, it hurts to say bye. I thank you for being here. You are taking with you a large portion of who I am, or hope to be. I already said I love you....... but damnit, at the risk of being redundant, I still do. I pray God be with you and hold you till we meet again. I am going to miss you........ did I tell you I love you?"
ya'll drive safe.
Do overs.........
There are few things for which I wish for the old child hood "do-over". Certainly a child like concept. Whenever the veracity of an outcome was in question (or not to everyone satisfaction), someone would shout "Do-over", and everyone would pretend like the moment in question had never happened. So, the topic du jour is those few moments whereby I wish I could call a "Do-over". Why? Cause these are the only moments in my life that I wish I could change.
What we are talking about is regret. Since changing most anything in your life might keep you from being where you are..... I pretty much avoid saying what I would do differently if I were suddenly granted some secret wish to do my life over. But there are three occasions that I wish I had an opportunity to change......
I was a little surprised to notice that the moments I wish I could change are not moments that I did something needing to be corrected.......... but rather moments that I did nothing. Not acts of commission, but of omission. A lesson there? Probably. I think the things we most regret are the things we let pass by.
So, three times I let a moment get by me. Twice it was ignorance, and once, my earliest test of character, I failed to act out of cowardice.
To wash the slate, to offer whatever lessons are to be learned, and to explain to myself and those I love some of what has motivated me in my life I offer the following three instances of my having failed to live to my highest expectations.
First, I missed a family gathering. My Uncle had just passed away, it was my aunt closest to me in age (more like my big sister...... she had to put up with me through much of her early girl scouting experiences). I was newly wed, a new adoptive father, and it was not convenient. What a wonderfully selfish observation. Oh, everyone made it easy for me....... but I missed an important moment in our family. I should have been there. I have not missed many moments since then.......... but I truly regret missing that one.
Second event, my friend and his wife asked me to be Godfather to their son. My best friend and his wife thought so much of me that they offered this honor....... and it was about the same time as my Uncles death and the same mental disorder seems to have continued its assault on my better judgement as I again offered the simple observation that I could not afford the trip at the time. It is true I had no leave, it is also true I did not have the money, but I should have been there. I let down a friend (no small thing in and of itself), but I also managed to pass on an experience that would have been potentially one of the high lights of my life. I grew up in a testosterone dominated home. I assumed I would continue to experience the same forever. But my life is dominated by estrogen. Besides my wife, my daughter, my grand daughters, my daughter-in-law......... even my wife's four cats are female. I am close to my Father, and my Brother, but my day to day existence is all female, and they occasionally hop on the estrogen express and ride my butt out of town. I have an adopted son, but he suffers from the terrible disease of narcissism, and there is no room for anyone else in his world. I have a grandson less than a year old.......... maybe I will have a male relationship with him. Still, my good friend offered me a chance to be a part of his sons life.................................. and in ignorance I passed. Today, I can only imagine at what I missed.
And lastly, the greatest moment of self disappointment in my life. My first personal experience of the truth found in "A brave man dies but once, a coward a thousand times." This truth has been attributed to Shakespeare, and to the wisdom of the American Indian. Regardless of where it comes from, it is true. I offer the following in recognition that I needed to learn the lesson personally.
In middle school (7th grade) I rode a bus to school. My Father was the principal at my middle school. This is important as it implied that I did in fact have some major allies if I had wanted to risk calling in the "big guns". It was on a bus ride to school that my first moment of adulthood and it's moral challenges arose. There was a young man who lived across the street from me. He was not particularly smart, he was not particularly athletic, and he was not socially gifted. Right, in the moronic insight of so many at that age, he had no right to live. I was not the largest on the bus (it is amazing how significant a year can be in a young mans physical development). The 8th graders tended to be physically intimidating to those of us a year behind. In the end it matters not how big I was. The bigger kids began to spit on the poor boy from across the street. I should have screamed at the bus driver, or stood up and informed them that immediately upon arrival at school I would be most proud to report each and every one of them to the principal. I should have steped back and busted one of the ones my size in the mouth, or even committed suicide and busted the biggest one. An ass whipping would have healed long ago...... the hurt is still there. As God is my witness I would love to tell you I did any one of those things, but I didn't. I sat there and watched as an innocent suffered insult not much different than what the Nazi inflicted. The spittle ran from the back of his head, and the bullies continued. I can not imagine the damage to that young mans soul.......... but I am well aware of what it did to mine.
Never again in my life have I ever stood by and let someone blatantly inflict insult on another. Not at the risk of my life would I ever suffer it again. It was as a boy that I sat there quietly and did nothing. No, it was not just the boy with spittle all over his back and shoulders the bullies destroyed that day. They took the innocence of another young man. I hate them for it.
What we are talking about is regret. Since changing most anything in your life might keep you from being where you are..... I pretty much avoid saying what I would do differently if I were suddenly granted some secret wish to do my life over. But there are three occasions that I wish I had an opportunity to change......
I was a little surprised to notice that the moments I wish I could change are not moments that I did something needing to be corrected.......... but rather moments that I did nothing. Not acts of commission, but of omission. A lesson there? Probably. I think the things we most regret are the things we let pass by.
So, three times I let a moment get by me. Twice it was ignorance, and once, my earliest test of character, I failed to act out of cowardice.
To wash the slate, to offer whatever lessons are to be learned, and to explain to myself and those I love some of what has motivated me in my life I offer the following three instances of my having failed to live to my highest expectations.
First, I missed a family gathering. My Uncle had just passed away, it was my aunt closest to me in age (more like my big sister...... she had to put up with me through much of her early girl scouting experiences). I was newly wed, a new adoptive father, and it was not convenient. What a wonderfully selfish observation. Oh, everyone made it easy for me....... but I missed an important moment in our family. I should have been there. I have not missed many moments since then.......... but I truly regret missing that one.
Second event, my friend and his wife asked me to be Godfather to their son. My best friend and his wife thought so much of me that they offered this honor....... and it was about the same time as my Uncles death and the same mental disorder seems to have continued its assault on my better judgement as I again offered the simple observation that I could not afford the trip at the time. It is true I had no leave, it is also true I did not have the money, but I should have been there. I let down a friend (no small thing in and of itself), but I also managed to pass on an experience that would have been potentially one of the high lights of my life. I grew up in a testosterone dominated home. I assumed I would continue to experience the same forever. But my life is dominated by estrogen. Besides my wife, my daughter, my grand daughters, my daughter-in-law......... even my wife's four cats are female. I am close to my Father, and my Brother, but my day to day existence is all female, and they occasionally hop on the estrogen express and ride my butt out of town. I have an adopted son, but he suffers from the terrible disease of narcissism, and there is no room for anyone else in his world. I have a grandson less than a year old.......... maybe I will have a male relationship with him. Still, my good friend offered me a chance to be a part of his sons life.................................. and in ignorance I passed. Today, I can only imagine at what I missed.
And lastly, the greatest moment of self disappointment in my life. My first personal experience of the truth found in "A brave man dies but once, a coward a thousand times." This truth has been attributed to Shakespeare, and to the wisdom of the American Indian. Regardless of where it comes from, it is true. I offer the following in recognition that I needed to learn the lesson personally.
In middle school (7th grade) I rode a bus to school. My Father was the principal at my middle school. This is important as it implied that I did in fact have some major allies if I had wanted to risk calling in the "big guns". It was on a bus ride to school that my first moment of adulthood and it's moral challenges arose. There was a young man who lived across the street from me. He was not particularly smart, he was not particularly athletic, and he was not socially gifted. Right, in the moronic insight of so many at that age, he had no right to live. I was not the largest on the bus (it is amazing how significant a year can be in a young mans physical development). The 8th graders tended to be physically intimidating to those of us a year behind. In the end it matters not how big I was. The bigger kids began to spit on the poor boy from across the street. I should have screamed at the bus driver, or stood up and informed them that immediately upon arrival at school I would be most proud to report each and every one of them to the principal. I should have steped back and busted one of the ones my size in the mouth, or even committed suicide and busted the biggest one. An ass whipping would have healed long ago...... the hurt is still there. As God is my witness I would love to tell you I did any one of those things, but I didn't. I sat there and watched as an innocent suffered insult not much different than what the Nazi inflicted. The spittle ran from the back of his head, and the bullies continued. I can not imagine the damage to that young mans soul.......... but I am well aware of what it did to mine.
Never again in my life have I ever stood by and let someone blatantly inflict insult on another. Not at the risk of my life would I ever suffer it again. It was as a boy that I sat there quietly and did nothing. No, it was not just the boy with spittle all over his back and shoulders the bullies destroyed that day. They took the innocence of another young man. I hate them for it.
Laugh and the whole world laughs.....
We've all heard it.... "Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry, and you cry alone". What a crock. I well recognize that for some this might well be true. There are some (a minority from personal experience) who are so narcissistic that they have never managed to have close friends (the old "To make a friend you must first be one" restricts the relationships for these individuals). I have known a few folks that have something "bent" in their makeup whereby they are just unable to put others first. For them, in their reality, everyone is probably just out for themselves. We do tend to see a reflection of ourselves in the faces of those we meet. So, if we were self centered bone heads too, that is what we would expect from everyone else. That would be our reality. In life, one does tend to find whatever one is looking for.
That is not my reality. In my world there are many who share in my experiences. They exalt in the triumphs, and are truly crushed at the things that cause me pain..... and it is mutual. How lonely to have no one to share whatever is in your heart. What a sad existence............
Thank God for friends.
That is not my reality. In my world there are many who share in my experiences. They exalt in the triumphs, and are truly crushed at the things that cause me pain..... and it is mutual. How lonely to have no one to share whatever is in your heart. What a sad existence............
Thank God for friends.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Remember the music from "The Sound of Music"? Remember the song "My Favorite Things"? I recently read a book where a fellow listed about a thousand things for which he was thankful. Seems like a great idea (and maybe something we should all review regularly.... if only to provide balance in this current difficult time). As I read it I felt better, so save yourself some money and read on....... my initial list of Favorite things in no particular order....
1) The smell of a newborn, and the feel of their skin.
2)Heathers laugh. OK, Heather in general, but especially her laugh
3)The times I have been blessed to see a loved ones soul (the day we married I saw your soul)
4)Sunset on the lake with those I love
5)Fishing with my Dad and Brother
6)Working in my gardens
7)Working with Mom and Dad anywhere... hell, doing anything in their company
8) Breakfast at Hardees
9)Knoth's BBQ
10)Time on the pontoon
11)Fall....... whether in Ky or in the mountains with Dave & Jeanette
12)Belonging to something greater.... The family circle
13)Lunch with my Pop, Dad and Mark
14)Bozo's (BBQ again..... I might be hungry)
15)Alyce......... I see you
16)Tink
17)Any of a thousand moments with Katelynn
18)An afternoon with Anna and the kids..... watching them play in the yard
19)A hug from Cadence............
20)A hug from my Brother.......... the ones that make it impossible to breath
21)Eternal friends......... ones I laugh with, and especially the ones I cry with
22)My Father......... and one of the most noble souls I know
23)Dory and Gage.... the latest chapters in my life
24)Tabby........... I told you lately I love you?
25)Playing with either a kitten or puppy
26)The smell of a grill in the summer..... from blocks away
27)Cold Watermelon
28)CHRISTMAS...the music, the rare occasion when you get just the right gift, being together
29)The sound of rain on a tin roof
30)An afternoon on the Buffalo river, just before sunset. The high shear cliffs were visible in the distance leaving a feeling of being isolated, and secluded. It was warm and we had just finished setting up camp. Everyone had gotten something to drink, and we were all sitting in lawn chairs up to our waist in the shoal of the river enjoying both the sunset, and each others company. To borrow a quote from an author I have come to think was a genius.... "When I was young a teacher had forbidden me to say "more perfect" because she said if a thing is perfect it can't be more so. But by now I had seen enough life to have regained my confidence in it."
Life does offer moments of absolute perfection...... probably more than we appreciate.
Enough for today........ I will revisit this subject often I think.
1) The smell of a newborn, and the feel of their skin.
2)Heathers laugh. OK, Heather in general, but especially her laugh
3)The times I have been blessed to see a loved ones soul (the day we married I saw your soul)
4)Sunset on the lake with those I love
5)Fishing with my Dad and Brother
6)Working in my gardens
7)Working with Mom and Dad anywhere... hell, doing anything in their company
8) Breakfast at Hardees
9)Knoth's BBQ
10)Time on the pontoon
11)Fall....... whether in Ky or in the mountains with Dave & Jeanette
12)Belonging to something greater.... The family circle
13)Lunch with my Pop, Dad and Mark
14)Bozo's (BBQ again..... I might be hungry)
15)Alyce......... I see you
16)Tink
17)Any of a thousand moments with Katelynn
18)An afternoon with Anna and the kids..... watching them play in the yard
19)A hug from Cadence............
20)A hug from my Brother.......... the ones that make it impossible to breath
21)Eternal friends......... ones I laugh with, and especially the ones I cry with
22)My Father......... and one of the most noble souls I know
23)Dory and Gage.... the latest chapters in my life
24)Tabby........... I told you lately I love you?
25)Playing with either a kitten or puppy
26)The smell of a grill in the summer..... from blocks away
27)Cold Watermelon
28)CHRISTMAS...the music, the rare occasion when you get just the right gift, being together
29)The sound of rain on a tin roof
30)An afternoon on the Buffalo river, just before sunset. The high shear cliffs were visible in the distance leaving a feeling of being isolated, and secluded. It was warm and we had just finished setting up camp. Everyone had gotten something to drink, and we were all sitting in lawn chairs up to our waist in the shoal of the river enjoying both the sunset, and each others company. To borrow a quote from an author I have come to think was a genius.... "When I was young a teacher had forbidden me to say "more perfect" because she said if a thing is perfect it can't be more so. But by now I had seen enough life to have regained my confidence in it."
Life does offer moments of absolute perfection...... probably more than we appreciate.
Enough for today........ I will revisit this subject often I think.
Laughter..... if I had to define my existence, it would in some respect reflect an unending search for laughter. Laughter is the sound of a souls singing. In that respect, my life is blessed by several members of Gods own chorus.
Laughing is pretty much universal..... but being funny is unique. I was born to one of the worlds best comedians. If my mother had married Ricky Ricardo the world would be a different place. Making others laugh involves a risk. Not everyone has the courage to face the risk inherent in trying to make others laugh (ever tell a joke and mess it up? That silence is it's own mini version of Hell). My mother has the most child like willingness to offer attempts at making others laugh........... and subsequently she is almost universally successful. That has lasted most of a lifetime.
Mom had no trouble entertaining 2 sons and a daughter when we were young, but she is equally as successful now that we are grown and have a much more sophisticated understanding of humor...... well, at least until we are around Mom. Then perhaps it erodes to just silly. That alone is a gift beyond comprehension. How many folks do you feel comfortable in being silly around. I am not sure what the mechanism is for making others willing to loose self awareness, but my Mom is a carrier............... and a blessing to my soul.
Laughter is what binds us. Who can ever forget those moments that you laughed so hard you could not catch your breath. Laughter may well be the milestones by which we can measure the years. One of my earliest memories was as a young boy playing with Tonka trucks under a tree on a street that is now underwater just down the road from the Kentucky State Penitentiary. A bird relieved himself on my cousin, and he looked up and said something about "Go ahead, do it again, everyone else does....." This was at maybe 5 or 6 years of age. So much of my formative years was spent in the company of my cousins and Brother. Sadly, the subject matter of what we laughed about has not changed much over the years, but we still manage to get together and each visit is blessed with laughter.
Most every heart ache in my life has been mitigated with laughter. When my Brother and I finally find something in the most tragic of situations to laugh at, then I know we will survive. I thought my military brothers invented "politically incorrect" humor. My Brother and I perfected it. I suspect that most anything, given enough time can eventually be made light of. We may push the time frame a little. I watched an interview with Mel Brooks once where he was asked why in some of his productions he made fun of the Nazis (and especially Adolph Hitler). His response has been something that has always stuck with me:
"Rhetoric does not get you anywhere,because Hitler and Mussolini are just as good at rhetoric. But if you can bring these people down with comedy, they stand no chance."
Seems to me, the best way to mitigate hurt and hate is with God's own gift, the music of the soul.
Laughing is pretty much universal..... but being funny is unique. I was born to one of the worlds best comedians. If my mother had married Ricky Ricardo the world would be a different place. Making others laugh involves a risk. Not everyone has the courage to face the risk inherent in trying to make others laugh (ever tell a joke and mess it up? That silence is it's own mini version of Hell). My mother has the most child like willingness to offer attempts at making others laugh........... and subsequently she is almost universally successful. That has lasted most of a lifetime.
Mom had no trouble entertaining 2 sons and a daughter when we were young, but she is equally as successful now that we are grown and have a much more sophisticated understanding of humor...... well, at least until we are around Mom. Then perhaps it erodes to just silly. That alone is a gift beyond comprehension. How many folks do you feel comfortable in being silly around. I am not sure what the mechanism is for making others willing to loose self awareness, but my Mom is a carrier............... and a blessing to my soul.
Laughter is what binds us. Who can ever forget those moments that you laughed so hard you could not catch your breath. Laughter may well be the milestones by which we can measure the years. One of my earliest memories was as a young boy playing with Tonka trucks under a tree on a street that is now underwater just down the road from the Kentucky State Penitentiary. A bird relieved himself on my cousin, and he looked up and said something about "Go ahead, do it again, everyone else does....." This was at maybe 5 or 6 years of age. So much of my formative years was spent in the company of my cousins and Brother. Sadly, the subject matter of what we laughed about has not changed much over the years, but we still manage to get together and each visit is blessed with laughter.
Most every heart ache in my life has been mitigated with laughter. When my Brother and I finally find something in the most tragic of situations to laugh at, then I know we will survive. I thought my military brothers invented "politically incorrect" humor. My Brother and I perfected it. I suspect that most anything, given enough time can eventually be made light of. We may push the time frame a little. I watched an interview with Mel Brooks once where he was asked why in some of his productions he made fun of the Nazis (and especially Adolph Hitler). His response has been something that has always stuck with me:
"Rhetoric does not get you anywhere,because Hitler and Mussolini are just as good at rhetoric. But if you can bring these people down with comedy, they stand no chance."
Seems to me, the best way to mitigate hurt and hate is with God's own gift, the music of the soul.
OK, since any revelation as to who or what we are must somehow encompass what we believe, a discussion of faith must ensue. To reveal who I am therefore demands a discussion of faith, especially as a personal faith is at the very core of who I think I am. That said, I suspect this will be the shortest of all blogs. See, if I have not demonstrated my faith, any verbal discussion seems superficial.
The world is full of organized religions, all somehow espousing their own "one universal truth", and most with a cadre of young militant males willing to kill you if you do not embrace their own "loving" God. We have heard that "God made man in his image....." Seems to me that we have tried to make God into ours. Arguing over who is right when discussing faith is like a bunch of ticks arguing over who owns the dog........ Seems just ludicrous to me.
I think we all have known individuals that verbally say one thing, but their actions speak volumes to a different truth. Some information is just not communicable by words alone. If I have not lived "love"..... if I somehow have left a question in your mind as to whether my allegiance was to something greater than my own immediate gratification, then I failed in my faith.
Do I believe in something greater? Yes. Have I lived it? Ahhhhhhhhhhh, there is a great question, but not one I am prepared to answer. It requires a judgement that is not necessarily mine to make. I will offer that I believe in a universal loving God. I believe we are more than just the bodies we inhabit, I believe in love, I believe in the people I love...... and I believe that is enough..........
The world is full of organized religions, all somehow espousing their own "one universal truth", and most with a cadre of young militant males willing to kill you if you do not embrace their own "loving" God. We have heard that "God made man in his image....." Seems to me that we have tried to make God into ours. Arguing over who is right when discussing faith is like a bunch of ticks arguing over who owns the dog........ Seems just ludicrous to me.
I think we all have known individuals that verbally say one thing, but their actions speak volumes to a different truth. Some information is just not communicable by words alone. If I have not lived "love"..... if I somehow have left a question in your mind as to whether my allegiance was to something greater than my own immediate gratification, then I failed in my faith.
Do I believe in something greater? Yes. Have I lived it? Ahhhhhhhhhhh, there is a great question, but not one I am prepared to answer. It requires a judgement that is not necessarily mine to make. I will offer that I believe in a universal loving God. I believe we are more than just the bodies we inhabit, I believe in love, I believe in the people I love...... and I believe that is enough..........
Monday, July 12, 2010
My first entry........... seems suddenly momentous. I have agonized over this for several days, ever since reaching the decision that I might want to start a blog. Why agonize? It's not as easy as I expected. For some reason I feel that this might be something that will have great significance......... gravitas. I guess that raises the question of "Why?" again. I think what I crave to achieve is something that everyone alive has always desired, and may well be the underlying purpose of all human life. I want to connect. Either to strengthen existing relationships, or to develop new ones...... I want/need to connect with others. Is that desire not universal? I have known profound friendships in my life. As a boy it seemed easy. Spend enough time in play with another and they somehow unfold before you like a new spring blossom. As a child, the fear of being honest has not been learned, and the people you play with are their own genuine selves. Add a few years and enough disillusionment has come along that you have a persona to project. Somewhere you loose your genuine better self for the one you want to project. Especially while dating......... Advance to early manhood and eventually you make some new "soul mate" friends. It's amazing how many of these friends are a direct result of alcohol induced honest discussions that almost always last all night (or till sobriety). In my personal life, the next step was the military (a furthering of the same behavior as in college..... there are so many corollaries between fraternity and the military so as to make the transition basically seamless). For others, and perhaps those who did not have an officers commission nor serve in a peace time military, I imagine the experience of being brothers-in-arms would be a bond that would create deep soul stirring bonds. No wonder so many service men can relate to the truth put forth by Dickens: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.....". Terrible circumstances, but for many, the deepest soulful connections of a lifetime. It seems an inordinate premium for finding a kindred soul, but what price would you pay for those individuals who have touched and become a part of your soul?
I have several friends from my youth that I still occasionally see. Some of them just happened to also be family. My brother and I enjoyed that type of boyhood intimacy with two male cousins. We do not see one another as much as we might, but we walked away a long time ago holding large parts of each others hearts. We can go years without talking, and walk into a room and immediately pickup as if we were together at dinner the night before. Same with my college and military friends. My best friend from back then actually fits into both categories (college and military). He told someone recently that in spite of the fact that we have not laid eyes on one another in almost two decades, if I were to call and ask for help today he would leave immediately. The depth of affection is mutual. Some souls just become intertwined with yours so deeply they are a part of who you are............... forever. Seems like I should add an Amen.....
I have that deeper "soul" level relationship with family. Several years ago my Dad's extended family met for a weekend. My Pop was not in the best of health, and a commitment to start regular family reunions was initiated. We had them for years, and more than enough love was shared........ but in truth we were not near the united group we are today. Those early reunions had everyone going here and there, and little groups visited as space and time allowed. The gentler side of the family (the women) were so involved in either food preparation or clean up that they seldom really had time to visit. We gathered, but we did not necessarily connect. Somewhere in the last two and a half decades someone saw a need and suggested we might want to try something different. A family time where we all took turns relaying whatever was significant in our lives. This was not a relaying of facts, but an honest relaying of what had importance in our lives. That first year "sharing" was difficult for some. It is amazing how difficult it can be to relay your successes and disappointments to others.......... even those that you know love you. It's the emotional equivalent of dropping your pants in times square. In your heart you are saying "This is the real me, please be gentle........". Well, we all made it through. Every year since then those that can have met and repeated the process. The circle has lost a member or two, and it has grown. Little ones are grown and have families of their own. They bring the little ones to learn the truth and value found in belonging to something "larger". The voices of little ones are strengthened early when they get a chance to talk and all the "adults" listen intently. Now, not only is my father wearing the title that his father so wonderfully progressed as "Pop" (or "Big Pop" to his three great-grandchildren), but to two beautiful little girls, and one little boy I am now "Pop". I can imagine no greater honor or title to which I might aspire. Somewhere in our desire to connect we found the best in each other. It is a holy time I think we all cherish. I will share the simple observation........... I see myself as the best man I ever hope to be in the eyes of the family and friends who have sat in that circle.
Next truth is that my daughter has revealed so much of herself in her own blog that it has been a regular instrument that offers the same type of revelation and bonding I feel at our reunions. The thought that I might be able to share something like the reunion with family on a more regular basis is .............. well, just awesome. There is also the revelation that I might start, or deepen, relationships with others that have made their way into my heart. I have always said I like it best when the line between family and friend blurs to obscurity......... So, for those of you who have found your way here, prepare yourself........ I am about to perform that same emotional equivalent of "dropping trou". Just like years ago with just family, on some level I am offering "This is the real me.......... please be gentle." If you care to have that type of relationship, you have but to offer the best part of who you are in return. I well know it ain't easy, but I think it is how God intended us to be. I hope we can truly and honestly share the greeting "I see you." It means everything.............
And lastly, there is one other reason for this blog that I should address. Mortality. Let's just say the tenuous nature of life as we experience it is an awareness that I have pushed to the back of my mind for most of my 55 years. It is now pushing back. I am aware of how very blessed I am with memories of time shared with those I love. I've got tons of pictures, and as far as I know I have never missed a chance to "in action and deed" share with those I love my deepest affections. Still, I would love to have something more tangible to connect me to those who have left this world. I am at perfect peace with where they have gone, and, in the deepest level of my soul I KNOW I will be with them again.......... still, I wish there was something I could "own" that would make them more real to me. I wish there was a video of my Granny telling one of her chillins about the "Bingity, Bangity, School bus", or of my Pop laughing as his grandsons acted foolish. I wish my daughter could know and experience those times. I wish my grandchildren could know who their great great grandparents were. How do I share those memories? I guess the larger question is, "How do I make something for those I love to hold to to ensure they know who I was? I suspect Randy Pausch did it best. Have you seen the video or read the book "The Last Lecture"? I recommend it highly. Like Randy I want my surviving loved ones to have something to hold to.............. this then, is the first entry in that effort. Please, wish me luck.
I have several friends from my youth that I still occasionally see. Some of them just happened to also be family. My brother and I enjoyed that type of boyhood intimacy with two male cousins. We do not see one another as much as we might, but we walked away a long time ago holding large parts of each others hearts. We can go years without talking, and walk into a room and immediately pickup as if we were together at dinner the night before. Same with my college and military friends. My best friend from back then actually fits into both categories (college and military). He told someone recently that in spite of the fact that we have not laid eyes on one another in almost two decades, if I were to call and ask for help today he would leave immediately. The depth of affection is mutual. Some souls just become intertwined with yours so deeply they are a part of who you are............... forever. Seems like I should add an Amen.....
I have that deeper "soul" level relationship with family. Several years ago my Dad's extended family met for a weekend. My Pop was not in the best of health, and a commitment to start regular family reunions was initiated. We had them for years, and more than enough love was shared........ but in truth we were not near the united group we are today. Those early reunions had everyone going here and there, and little groups visited as space and time allowed. The gentler side of the family (the women) were so involved in either food preparation or clean up that they seldom really had time to visit. We gathered, but we did not necessarily connect. Somewhere in the last two and a half decades someone saw a need and suggested we might want to try something different. A family time where we all took turns relaying whatever was significant in our lives. This was not a relaying of facts, but an honest relaying of what had importance in our lives. That first year "sharing" was difficult for some. It is amazing how difficult it can be to relay your successes and disappointments to others.......... even those that you know love you. It's the emotional equivalent of dropping your pants in times square. In your heart you are saying "This is the real me, please be gentle........". Well, we all made it through. Every year since then those that can have met and repeated the process. The circle has lost a member or two, and it has grown. Little ones are grown and have families of their own. They bring the little ones to learn the truth and value found in belonging to something "larger". The voices of little ones are strengthened early when they get a chance to talk and all the "adults" listen intently. Now, not only is my father wearing the title that his father so wonderfully progressed as "Pop" (or "Big Pop" to his three great-grandchildren), but to two beautiful little girls, and one little boy I am now "Pop". I can imagine no greater honor or title to which I might aspire. Somewhere in our desire to connect we found the best in each other. It is a holy time I think we all cherish. I will share the simple observation........... I see myself as the best man I ever hope to be in the eyes of the family and friends who have sat in that circle.
Next truth is that my daughter has revealed so much of herself in her own blog that it has been a regular instrument that offers the same type of revelation and bonding I feel at our reunions. The thought that I might be able to share something like the reunion with family on a more regular basis is .............. well, just awesome. There is also the revelation that I might start, or deepen, relationships with others that have made their way into my heart. I have always said I like it best when the line between family and friend blurs to obscurity......... So, for those of you who have found your way here, prepare yourself........ I am about to perform that same emotional equivalent of "dropping trou". Just like years ago with just family, on some level I am offering "This is the real me.......... please be gentle." If you care to have that type of relationship, you have but to offer the best part of who you are in return. I well know it ain't easy, but I think it is how God intended us to be. I hope we can truly and honestly share the greeting "I see you." It means everything.............
And lastly, there is one other reason for this blog that I should address. Mortality. Let's just say the tenuous nature of life as we experience it is an awareness that I have pushed to the back of my mind for most of my 55 years. It is now pushing back. I am aware of how very blessed I am with memories of time shared with those I love. I've got tons of pictures, and as far as I know I have never missed a chance to "in action and deed" share with those I love my deepest affections. Still, I would love to have something more tangible to connect me to those who have left this world. I am at perfect peace with where they have gone, and, in the deepest level of my soul I KNOW I will be with them again.......... still, I wish there was something I could "own" that would make them more real to me. I wish there was a video of my Granny telling one of her chillins about the "Bingity, Bangity, School bus", or of my Pop laughing as his grandsons acted foolish. I wish my daughter could know and experience those times. I wish my grandchildren could know who their great great grandparents were. How do I share those memories? I guess the larger question is, "How do I make something for those I love to hold to to ensure they know who I was? I suspect Randy Pausch did it best. Have you seen the video or read the book "The Last Lecture"? I recommend it highly. Like Randy I want my surviving loved ones to have something to hold to.............. this then, is the first entry in that effort. Please, wish me luck.
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