Rhythm

There are times when each of us gets down.  There are times when each of us gets frustrated, upset and angry.  There are times when we are faced with obstacles that seem absolutely insurmountable.  There are times . . .

My wife had just delivered Hannah, our firstborn.  I can’t begin to describe for you the joy I felt.  Unless you’re a parent, you just cannot understand.  I was holding her and the nurse had to ask me to give Hannah to her because she needed to clean her up. The nurse gave her back to me and then my wife, Kim, politely asked, “Can I hold her now?”  Embarrassed, I gently laid Hannah into Kim’s arms.  Peace and joy!  The way it is meant to be.

I left Kim and Hannah so I could go home, grab a few items and get cleaned up.  I stood in the elevator when an elderly man and his son entered.  Heck, I was excited and grinning ear to ear and the older man noticed and asked, “What is the occasion that you’re here this morning?”  I answered, “My wife just gave birth to our daughter, Hannah.  Our first.”  He nodded, looked down at the floor, and when he looked back at me there were tears in his eyes.  He said, “I just lost my wife and my best friend.  The Lord gives, and He takes away.  That’s life.” I apologized, and I didn’t know what to say.  In my absolute joy, this man just lost his wife and best friend, and the young man lost his mother.  The older man wiped a tear and shook his head, smiled and said, “It’s life.” My joy, his sorrow.

I think sometimes we forget the rhythm that life takes.  There is a song out right now that has a lyric, “Even storms run out of rain.”  And they do.  In the midst of disappointment, pain and sorrow, we forget that there will be success, relief and joy.  There will be low tides, just as there will be high.  There will be darkness, but the dark gives way to light.  There will be failure, but in failure comes success.  Mountains will give way to valleys and eventually to the plain.  Believe that!

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!   

Clutter

My wife claims that I’m a pack rat and I have to agree with her.  There are things I have trouble parting with.  My record collection from middle and high school.  My teddy bear collection (Yeah, I know  . . . I know).  My antique iron collection. 

My oldest daughter is in college, but I have her red and white striped jumper she wore as a baby in a dresser drawer in the spare bedroom.  My wife and I called it her “Russian Sailor Suit”.  I just can’t give it away or throw it out.  My youngest daughter had her Polly Pockets collection and the various houses and buildings that went with them.  Every Saturday after breakfast for the longest time, Hannah and Emily would disappear into Emily’s bedroom and play for hours.  We would hear them talking in various voices, laughing and giggling, and Kim and I would laugh along with them without their knowledge.  I think Kim and I enjoyed it as much as they did.  When Emily decided she wanted to give them away, a piece of my heart went with them. 

I could go on and on.  There is the yearly tug and tussle with my wife who likes to throw out, clean out and make room.  But there are some things that are just too painful for me to get rid of or give away.  At some point, I’ll reluctantly give in and give away, perhaps throw away.  That’s the reality of it.  I might not like it, but I know there is only so much space and honestly, I’m the type of guy who can find meaning and purpose in just about anything, so . . .

I think there is such a thing as emotional clutter. 

Feelings and thoughts we hoard and hold onto.  Sometimes this clutter gets in the way of the acceptance of others.  Sometimes this clutter gets in the way of growing and the acceptance of ourselves. The old, tried and tested patterns of thought and reaction prevents us from giving others a chance, an opportunity to change- at least in our own eyes.  Sometimes the way we think of ourselves is in itself a handicap preventing us from growing, preventing us from changing. 

Each day we have the opportunity to change.  Therefore, why would we continue to think and do in the same pattern that we’ve always thought and acted, especially if those thoughts and behaviors are destructive to us?  Why would we continue to think and do in the same pattern that we’ve always thought and acted if these thoughts and behaviors are somehow stilting us from growing? If I act and think now as I did as a twenty-something, I’m denying the opportunity for me to grow, to change, to become.    

Masahide, a 17^th century Japanese poet and samurai once said, "Barn's burnt down - now I can see the moon."

Perhaps it’s time to burn a barn or two.  We might not like it.  It might cause some pain.  But in the end, we will see a bit clearer.  That way, we’re a bit freer.  That way, we can move on, grow.  And, get rid of a bit of clutter, emotional or otherwise.  That might make us, and others, happier in the long run.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Storms

I love thunderstorms.  As a kid, I’d sit on our front porch and watch the clouds open up and the rain pound the ground.  I was fascinated (still am) by the drill and flash of lightning and the force of the wind.  The sheer power of a storm was something to marvel at.  There was a particular smell that to this day, I associate with a good old fashion thunderstorm.  It is like no other smell that I can compare it to.  As I recall, my mom was not too enamored with me outside during a thunderstorm, especially when lightning was present and in retrospect, she was probably right.  I know that now as a parent, I make sure my kids are inside and safe.

I remember driving on an interstate in Wisconsin during one summer when the rain and storm was so intense, I had no visibility- none whatsoever.  I couldn’t see.  I didn’t know what, if anything, was in front of me.  I didn’t know what, if anything, was behind me.  I didn’t know where the side of the road was for me to pull off in order to stop and let the storm pass.  I was stuck.  There were three small children in the backseat, my wife in the front seat next to me, and I was behind the wheel.  I didn’t know where to turn, if I should turn and I knew that if I made one misstep, my wife and kids could be harmed.  I crept forward ever so slowly until I came to an overpass that provided brief shelter.  It was crowded because many other drivers and a few drenched motorcyclists wanted the same protection.  Somehow, we made room for one another.

Storms happen.  Sometimes they come out of nowhere.  Sometimes they are of our own creation.  Sometimes we find ourselves in the middle of a storm created by someone else.  At times, we see no apparent way out, blinded by the swirl of chaos around us.  We can’t find a way forward.  We can’t see a way out.  Other times, there is that brief respite that gives a modicum of shelter and protection until it is safe to move forward once again.  And always, there will be a time when it is safe to move forward.  Always.  It may take time.  There is panic and fear.  There is concern for yourself and for others, perhaps loved ones.  But always, there will be a time when it is safe to move forward.  Always.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Cut Bait

I’m not a fisherman.  It wasn’t anything we did as a family or that I did growing up.  I lived next to a river, however, and every now and then I would see a fisherman or two with their cane poles or fancy rod and reel, maybe with a packed lunch and a blanket to sit on.  One or two might stand and cast. Others might be content to sit on the bank and catch a nap as well as a fish or two.

I remember back in high school about a hundred years ago reading two stories that I remember vividly.  Old Man and the Sea by Hemingway is a story about a battle of wills and skills.  Santiago went 84 days without catching anything, but on the 85^th day, he sets out and catches a marlin. The guy struggles for two days and two nights to land the fish.  On the third day, exhausted, worn out and near delirium, he harpoons the fish, straps it to his boat and heads home.  Unfortunately for him, sharks feed on it and by the time he got to shore, it was a mere skeleton.  Talk about a bummer!  In Moby Dick by Melville, Captain Ahab wants to kill the white whale that in a previous encounter ruined his boat and bit off his leg.  Ahab wants to exact revenge, but it costs him his life and that of his crew. Yup, another bummer!

I think the two stories are similar in that the central characters struggle continuously and don’t give in and don’t give up.  It costs them dearly: physically and emotionally.  There is something to be said about keeping up the good fight, to keep trying, to not quitting.  But at some point, a realization needs to set in and cause questions to be asked, “Is it worth it?” and perhaps “At what cost . . .?” 

There are marlins in our own lives, white whales that we chase.  Sometimes for the pursuit of it, sometimes out of revenge.  They are personal.  We can rationalize about them and find some sort of justification for them.  They are near and dear to us.  We pursue them vigorously.  Yet in the end, they are as elusive as the marlin or as the white whale.  Perhaps, just as destructive.  At some point, it might be necessary to cut bait and move on.  Our lives, our health might be better for it.  The lives or health of those around us might be better for it.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Heroes

I’ve had many heroes in my life.  My brother has always been a hero.  I wanted to be like him.  I played football because he did.  I chose to the same college he did and went into education just as he had.  Later in life, I understood that my dad was a hero.  I grew into that realization gradually.  I came to understand that he influenced me in more ways than I can imagine and one of my biggest heartaches is that I never got to tell him. 

It wasn’t so much in what my dad said to me or did with me.  To be honest, I can’t remember if he and I had any lengthy conversations about life, the future, or any of the ‘great’ questions.  He was a quiet guy who loved to laugh.  Boy, did he work hard!  Ten mouths to feed, to clothe and to put through school.  I never, ever heard him complain.  He accepted his life, loved us and went about living.

I coached a basketball player by the name of Dale.  He was, by any measure, a very good player.  He led the conference in scoring and rebounding and ended up with a full ride at a Midwestern university.  He was named Captain as a sophomore, unheard of in that era and the first underclassman given that honor in that school’s history.  My varsity and my coaches and I would sit in the stands and watch the junior varsity team play, and I remember one game where Dale came up to me and asked if he could speak to me.  He apologized for his “poor play” the game previous.  As I recall, it wasn’t necessarily a “Dale kind of game”, but still, double-digits in scoring and rebounding and we won.  He said there was a little kid who had come up to him and asked him for his autograph.  Dale felt uncomfortable, but gave it to him and then the kid said, “I want to be just like you when I grow up!”  Dale was taken aback by that.  He said, “I didn’t know kids watched me that closely.”  He didn’t think he was a “good enough role model for them.”  Pretty deep for a senior in high school.

I remember Charles Barkley stating that he “wasn’t a role model.”  Unfortunately, anytime we step out in front of someone, we risk accepting that title.  Teachers in front of their students.  Coaches in front of their players.  Parents in front of their children.  Whether we like it or not, whether we accept it or not, each of us has the potential to be a role model, and a hero, to someone.  Perhaps we need to be more closely aware of our actions, our words, and in some cases, our inactions and our lack of words.  We never know who is watching and we never know who might see us as a role model or a hero.

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!