Friday, June 7, 2013

The Gift Of Love



Love really is a gift.  It both brings a smile to one’s face and tears to one’s eyes.  A lump forms in one’s throat and no matter how much you try to swallow, it is difficult.  Yes, Love is a Gift.

Love is meant and intended to be shared.  Given away.  Freely with the expectation of receiving anything back.  A hard concept to understand because we live in a society of “giving to get”.  Love doesn’t operate that way though. 

When we give a gift, is there the expectation that we receive a gift back?

Not really. 

We give because we want to.  Giving a gift somehow makes us feel good, or perhaps even better, than when we receive a gift.  Love is magical in that respect.

Leo Buscaglia wrote, “Love is always open arms. If you close your arms about love you will find that you are left holding only yourself.”

But . . . in keeping one’s arms open increases our vulnerability, doesn’t it?  We become defenseless.  At the mercy of the person we reach out to.  They can reject us.  They can ignore us.  And if they do, it hurts.  Tremendously so.  In loving, we become vulnerable.

But it is in that sheer vulnerability that makes love the greatest of all gifts.  The greatest gift.

Buscaglia also wrote, “The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, is nothing, and becomes nothing.  He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he simply cannot learn, feel, change, grow or love. Chained by his certitude, he is a slave; he has forfeited his freedom.  Only the person who risks is truly free.”

It comes down to a choice . . . either give The Gift Of Love without strings, without expectations knowing full well that we might not get it back, or withhold it and run the risk of never receiving love because it was never given.  The latter is really a terrible, empty option.  A non-option actually.  This option will only leave one empty, alone and lonely.

Lastly, Love is not like a cake.  Love isn’t cut into pieces to be shared on a first come, first serve basis. Unlike a cake, love doesn’t “run out”.  It is magical in that the more you give love, the more love you seem to have.  A never-ending supply.

To give The Gift Of Love . . . or, not. 

Is there even a choice?  Really?  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Change Direction



My brother, Jim, wasn’t sure what he wanted to do after high school.  He went to college for a year, didn’t like it.  Went to a specialty school to learn to be a Radio-Technician.  Didn’t like it.  Enlisted in the Air Force, serving two years in Vietnam.  Came back to the states.  When he got out of the service, went back to college, graduated with honors with a double major in Art and Architecture.  Owned his own business.  Designed and built houses.  Wasn’t satisfied.  Became a teacher and did that for most of his adult life.  Retired.  Now owns an RV park in a resort area of Wisconsin.  A park he and his wife designed.  Happy as can be.

Change Direction.

My wife, Kim, knew what she wanted to do since fourth or fifth grade.  Still a Physical Education and Health teacher to this day.  Added a certification to teach Driver Education.  Is a Department Chair.  Happy.  No need to Change Direction.

Change Direction.

There isn’t anything wrong with walking down a path, finding it’s not the one you want, not the one for you, stopping, turning around and walking down a different path.  Nothing wrong with that at all.  Why would you want to continue being unhappy?  Why would you want to continue being unsatisfied?

I’ve enjoyed life in several states.  I’ve taught and coached high school in Wyoming.  I’ve taught and coached at the collegiate level in Nebraska.  Taught and coached and counseled in Wisconsin.  Was a counselor and administrator in California.  Was an administrator in Wisconsin and now in Virginia.  Along the way, I’ve met wonderful people.  I’ve seen beautiful country.  Learned many, many things about life . . . myself . . . that I probably wouldn’t have learned had I stayed in one place all my life.

Change Direction.

There is a Chinese proverb that says: “Do not fear going forward slowly; fear only to stand still.”

Change Direction.

To not move is a choice.  It is also a direction. 

I’ve seen adults and kids so numb with fear, so numb with indecision that they cannot move.  Not forward.  Not backward.  Cannot move at all.

While trees grow roots and for the most part, stay in one spot, they can be transplanted and thrive.   We do that with plants.  They outgrow one pot, so we transplant them to another, a bigger pot.  Or put them into a garden bed.

We are not trees.  We are not plants.

So move.  Change Direction.  You might like the view.  You might like the life.  The experience.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Friday, May 31, 2013

Never Quite Finished


Ever notice that some things just don’t seem to end?  That some things keep going and going
and . . .  Sort of like the Energizer Bunny!  Annoying at times.

Each Saturday morning, I begin the laundry.  I sort it and do one load at a time.  Depending upon the fabric, I either hang it on a rack or throw it in the dryer.  About five or six loads later, I declare myself done.  Yeah!

Oh, but wait . . .

Emily finishes with soccer practice or a game.  I now have another pile to do, perhaps two piles, since one jersey is black.  Heaven forbid if you wash black with white.  Worse if her red warm-up jersey is dirty.  Might take three loads. 

Oh, but wait . . .

I forgot- Hannah’s home from college.  Two or three more loads, maybe four.

Same thing with the dishes.  I wash and then dry.  Maybe I use the dishwasher.  Throw the dishes in, the soap, and turn it on.  Done!

Oh, but wait . . .

Someone decides to have a bowl of ice cream.  A glass of milk.  Popcorn.  Lemonade. More dishes!

It’s Never Quite Finished.  Such is life, really.

Last night, I finished the first edit on a book I wrote.  It is actually a sequel to the first.  When I got to the ending, I realized that it wasn’t quite done.  There was more to the story.  It has a satisfying ending, but it isn’t quite finished. Not yet. 

Life is Never Quite Finished.

I’m certainly on the backside of the mountain of life. I’m taking my time, choosing my steps on that path. I’d like to think that my wife and kids would miss me when I’m gone.  Hopefully, they’ll have good memories and those memories and stories will be passed on to their children.  But their lives will move on.  I expect that.  I want that.  I don’t need anyone mourning over me.  Think of me in the good times.  The things I did or said that made you laugh or might have caused you to pause and think.  I want life to move on.  It’s going to anyway.  Nothing I can do to prevent that.

Try this sometime:  Fill a bucket with water.  Stick your arm all the way in and then pull your arm out.  Is there still a hole where your arm was?  No.  The bucket and water doesn’t even miss you.  It’s like your arm was never there.  Or perhaps the next time you’re at the beach, stand close to the shore as a wave laps at your feet.  You feel yourself sink in the sand.  You step back and you see your footprint.  That is, until the next wave laps the shore and your footprint disappears.

So, too, is life.  It is Never Quite Finished.  It goes on.  Keeps going.  It needs to.  Past us, beyond us, despite of us.  I think that’s why they call it the circle of life.  Life is Never Quite Finished.  And, it shouldn’t be.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

Another Beginning



This is commencement season.  Kids wear their best clothes, their graduation gown and “hats”.  They’re decked out in tassels and stoles, medals and pins.  Confetti and balloons.  Cards, gifts, parties.

In 1972, I graduated with a class of 32 friends.  The school is no longer there.  When we’re back in Wisconsin visiting my wife’s family, we drive past what was once my school.  Most of it is falling down.  A shell of what it once was. 

I had to give a speech that day, one of two students to do so.  I remember it, actually.  I doubt if others do.  My dad and mom and my sister Donna sat in the audience.  We didn’t wear robes or “hats”.  Just my blue double-breasted suit. 

I’ve been through many commencements in my 37 years in education.  Last year’s was tough.  Hannah graduated.  I still get choked up remembering her introduction of me.  She was class officer and part of her introduction was, “You know him as the principal.  I know him as ‘my dad’”.  Yup, choked up again.

When I became principal, I decided against a traditional “principal speech” and instead, pick a song that represents or typifies the graduating class.  I sing to them. 

I had to sing after Hannah introduced me.  Tough to sing with a lump in one’s throat, with tears running down one’s cheeks.   I didn’t do “My Wish” any justice.  Still, the thought and my hope for them, for Hannah, was there. 

Commencement doesn’t, however, mean an end.  It actually means a beginning.

Rather ironic when you think about it.  I mean, you spend 8 years of elementary and middle school, four more years of high school to . . . begin again? 

Sure, college.  Graduate in four or five years, sometimes longer to . . . begin again?

Commencement.

To go forward.  Begin again.

Find the path.  Walk on it.  To and Through the door of your, perhaps His, choosing.  As He holds your hand.

As parents, we do the best we can with what we have to offer.  Kids stumble along the way.  We help pick them up, dust them off, and give them a pat on the back and tell them, “It’s okay.”  With a nod and a smile, perhaps a tear, they begin again.  We begin again.  Once again.

Oh, and my school that’s falling down?  The historical society is involved.  It’s creating a thrift shop for folks who can’t afford new.  A playground and a nursery.  Beginning Again.

Commencement doesn’t really end with one beginning.  Each day is a commencement.  Each night is a commencement.  A chance, an opportunity to begin again.  Take advantage of it.  Live it.  Love it.  It’s yours.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!