Feed The Wolf

Our dog, Bailey, eats the way our previous Golden Retriever, Sherlock used to eat:  a lot in a little amount of time.  Not only does Bailey eat from the bowl, but she will place her food neatly on the carpet near her bowl and eat it one small piece at a time.  At other times, Bailey decides to dine out.  She’ll take pieces of food to a different room, appropriately our dining room, and eat it there.  Odd and funny and a bit bewildering.

For many years now, I’ve fallen in love with the Navajo people.  I enjoy their rich history.  I enjoy the stark beauty of the American Southwest, specifically the Navajo Indian Reservation in Northeastern Arizona.  I even have a few books on their fables and stories, their lore, their customs, and their traditions.  In my favorite room in our house, I have the walls dappled with Navajo art and artifacts.

The Navajo people have a saying: “Coyote is always out there waiting, and coyote is always hungry.”

           

I don’t know to whom it is attributed other than that it is a traditional Navajo proverb.

In one of the books I wrote, one of my characters questions whether or not he is evil.  A heady concept and question, despite the fact that the boy’s age is only fourteen.  Without going into a lot of detail, the question is warranted.  The answer comes from George, a Navajo boy who is also fourteen, and who was raised very traditionally in the Navajo way of life.

After Brett’s question, there is a long pause before George speaks.  Finally, George said, “My grandfather told me that in all of us, there are two wolves.  One is good and one is evil.  We make a choice each day to feed one wolf or the other.  The one we feed the most determines whether or not we are good or evil.”

“We make a choice each day to feed one wolf or the other.  The one we feed the most determines whether or not we are good or evil.”

While the book I draw this conversation from is a work of fiction, my second book in a trilogy, I believe the words George speaks are real.  They ring true to me.

I sincerely believe there are two wolves in each of us. 

In Each Of Us. 

Drawing from yet another story, another allegory, we might call one wolf Cain and the other wolf Abel.

I also honestly believe that we make a conscious choice to feed one wolf or feed the other, one being good, and one being evil.  We make this choice by our words, our actions.  Sometimes we make this choice by our absence of words, by our inactions.  Sometimes, the thoughts we have make the choice for us. 

However we choose, whatever choice we make, we Feed The Wolf. 

We Feed The Wolf in our day to day interactions with people . . . even with ourselves.  We make choices to act or not act.  We make choices in the words we say or write, and in the words we refrain from speaking or writing.  We make choices in our reactions to the words and actions of others. 

In any case, we make a daily . . . sometimes minute by minute . . . choice to Feed One Wolf or Feed The Other.  Which will you decide to feed?  The choice is up to you each and every time.  As Yoda would say, “Choose wisely!”  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Line In The Sand

A Line of Demarcation is a boundary separating one thing from another.  Sometimes the line separates two countries, such as the Blue Line separating Lebanon from Israel, or the Radcliffe Line separating India and Pakistan, or our very own Mason-Dixon Line. 

We have fence lines separating one ranch from another, or one yard from another.  Sometimes the fence is somewhat imaginary such as a hedge row or tree line.  Sometimes the line isn’t so imaginary such as a river or an ocean. 

The thing about a line is that it separates.  Countries.  States.  Time Zones. 

People.

In our own country, in our own recent past, we sometimes had two lines: one for whites and one for anyone else of color.  Separate water fountains.  Restrooms.  Parts of town.  Even social events.

Sometimes we give each other or earn a title that separates us from one another such as Commander In Chief, or Senator, or Board of Supervisor, or Principal. 

Arbitrary or not, lines separate us from one another and can and often do create divisions and sometimes divisiveness.

And if a line separates, imaginary or otherwise, what happens if the line is crossed?

To me, a Line In The Sand is a dare.  It’s saying to someone, “See what happens when you cross this!”  And it seems like it’s human nature to want to cross that line just to see what happens.

I think we draw a Line In The Sand to each other.  Between one adult and another adult.  Many times, adults do this to kids.  “One more time and I’ll tell your father!”  “Do I need to contact your parents?” “You do this one more time and I’ll . . .” 

Effective, huh?  Hmmm, not so much.

When we draw a Line In The Sand, we back each other, sometimes kids, into a corner so that there is nowhere to go.  Sometimes we even back ourselves into a corner and leave ourselves no choice but to cross our own imaginary line.

Mostly, I feel it is uncomfortable to have a Line In The Sand drawn for us, real or imaginary, our own doing or someone else’s doing.  It’s a dare and somehow, someway, that line says, “I’m better than you!”  “I’m tougher than you!”  It is an assertion, real or imaginary, rightly or wrongly, of one’s power over another individual.  Drawing a Line separates.  It can, and often does, hurt.  Instead of unifying, it creates division.  Instead of joining, it creates divisiveness.

Perhaps we should separate less and join more.  Perhaps instead of keeping others away, we need to include and become more inclusive.  Humans, after all, seek others to be with them for comfort, for guidance, for support.  Lines don’t join people together.  Dares don’t support or encourage.  Lines and dares are destructive, not constructive.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Where An Apology Falls Short

An apology is so important when one has done or said something wrong or hurtful.  An apology is equally important when one has not done or said something that should have been done or said.  It is an act of accountability, of owning up to a mistake.  It is raising one’s hand and stating, “I am sorry.”

I believe an apology is a step towards making things right.  An apology is a corrective action.  It lets an individual know that there is recognition that something was said or done that was hurtful.  An apology lets an individual know that there is a willingness to fix a hurt and to mend a relationship.

Still . . .

I came across a post by another writer who wanted to point out an apology’s deficiency.  I paraphrase, but it went sort of like this:

Take a plate.  Any old plate would do, but a nice plate, a treasured plate would be better.  Now, pick up the plate and throw it on the floor.  Did it shatter?  Yes, it shattered.  Now, tell the plate you’re sorry.  Did you?  Yes, I told the plate I was sorry.  Did you really, really mean it?  Yes, I’m very sorry I broke the plate.  Did the plate un-shatter?  Did the plate come back as a whole plate?  No.  Didn’t think so.  Sometimes “sorry” doesn’t make the pieces whole again.  Sometimes “sorry” doesn’t undo the damage.

“Sometimes sorry doesn’t make the pieces whole again.  Sometimes sorry doesn’t undo the damage.”

I’ve written a post titled Tattered And Torn.  In it, I wrote about the pain and suffering some of us . . . many of us . . . have that were the result of the words or the actions of others.  Stuff that was done or said to or about us.  The effects last a lifetime.  Many times, we so very well remember the hurt caused by one individual and forget . . . perhaps ignore . . . the complements we received by many individuals.  That one hurt lasts and lasts and . . .

An apology is a necessary first step.  So very necessary.  And yet, it is only a first step.  It is only one step.

The hurt is remembered and will be remembered.  There is a certain amount of damage that hurt caused that might not go away.  There is a certain amount of damage that hurt caused that will not fade away in any time, short or long.  Sometimes the damage is such that it lasts for the rest of one’s life. 

Each of us has those hurts we remember.  We retreat and lick our wounds.  Sometimes we might even lash out in equal or surpassing measure, as if we can become “better” by making someone else feel worse.  Sometimes, each of us has reacted without thinking, out of emotion of the moment.  Hit me with a fist?  I’ll hit you with a rock!

But, an apology is a first and necessary step to rebuilding a relationship, to mending hurt feelings.  Yes, an apology is necessary so that the other party will know that we recognize our misstep, that we recognize the damage we caused- not only to the other party, but to ourselves. 

But while the apology is a first and necessary step towards your and the other's healing, there has been damage.  There has been hurt.  And as we know, as you and I know, sometimes that hurt, that damage doesn’t go away.  Like the plate, it will remain shattered.  Like the plate, the person we hurt can remain damaged.  It might take more than a lifetime to get over.  It might take forever and a day.  So the only solace we take, can take, is that we extended a heartfelt, deeply felt apology admitting our mistake.  Whether or not it is enough, well, we might not ever know.  Whether or not we will be forgiven, we might not ever know.  And, even if we are forgiven of what we did or said, what we didn’t do or didn’t say, it might not ever be forgotten.  A tough and sad reality we might face for a long, long time.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

Low Hanging Fruit

Ever notice that fruit trees have a beautiful blossom and that the fragrance is wonderful? 

When I lived in California, you could smell an orange grove way before you actually saw it.  The smell is that powerful.  Ever notice that apple trees, in particular, look like they are in pain, especially when the leaves and fruit fall?  Almost old and arthritic.  Branches at odd angles, jutting this way and that way.  Best I can describe it is that it looks painful.

One of the benefits of growing up in the country on the river was that we had our own orchard.  Now, I wouldn’t exactly call it an orchard, but we did have one green apple tree, four crab apple trees, a pear tree (without the partridge), and a cherry tree (without George Washington threatening to chop it down).  And, it wasn’t the kind of orchard we spent a lot of time on, nor did we do a lot of work to it.

The trees would bear fruit.  We picked the fruit when the time came, and we filled our beat up bushel baskets, and then carried the lot of them to the end of the gravel driveway where the driveway met the blacktop of Highway 33.  We would set up our lawn chair next to the mailboxes, and sold them to any willing passersby.  Didn’t make a lot of money, but it was something to do on a fall Saturday or Sunday afternoon.

My dad would instruct the shorter ones among us to pick the fruit off of the branches we could reach, while the older, bigger ones among us climbed the ladder or the tree itself and picked the fruit off the higher branches.  It was an all day, many day chore.  After the picking, the apples, cherries or pears that didn’t make the baskets were raked up and disposed of. 

Got me thinking . . .

You’ve heard the expression, “Low Hanging Fruit.”  To me it means, that which is easily obtained without much effort, without much work, without much sweat.

Low Hanging Fruit.

Nothing wrong with picking Low Hanging Fruit.  Nothing wrong at all.  It’s there for the taking.  It’s easy and doesn’t take much effort.

We see opportunities in our daily lives:  a simple “Hello!” “Thank you!” “I’m sorry!” None of these take much effort and there are plenty of opportunities for us each day, many times a day.

Low Hanging Fruit.

A compliment.  A pat on the back.  A willingness to listen.  A willingness to help dry someone’s tears.  Showing empathy.  Showing courtesy.  Showing respect.  A gentle touch.  Reaching out to another in time of need.  Giving the gift of self.

Nothing great, glorious or glamorous.  But what a terrific reward for both the giver and the receiver!

Low Hanging Fruit.

No need to climb a ladder or climb the tree, unless you want to . . . are able to . . . reach for more, reach higher. 

Some have the ability to climb without fear or trepidation, without fear of falling.  And perhaps the benefits are just as great, maybe greater, than picking off the lower branches.

It comes down to comfort level and a willingness to pick.  All it takes is a willingness to gather.  All it takes is a willingness to protect before the fruit falls to the ground and is ruined, or damaged, or judged no good to use or eat.  Whether you pick the Low Hanging Fruit or climb up a ladder to pick the fruit off the upper branches does not really matter, as long as you Pick the Fruit.  Each day.  Every day.  And many, many times a day.  Something to think about . . .

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

 

 

The Very Bottom Line

It’s amazing to me that one person can see one thing, while another person can look at the same thing and see something completely different.  The same might occur in a song.  One person can only hear the melody, while another person hears the harmony.  One person interprets a painting one way, perhaps sees one thing that stands out, while another person sees something quite differently within that painting.  One person might find one passage in a reading significant, while another person finds another passage even more significant.

 

Kim and I have very dear friends, Dan and Jenny, who love the snow, especially Jenny.  She sees the beauty in snowflakes.  She delights in her children playing in the snow, making snow angels, building snow forts, and sledding. And after their time outside is over, when their cheeks are red as apples and their lips blue, there is hot chocolate with marshmallows.   Personally, I like snowflakes, but I’m willing to skip over everything else and go right to the hot chocolate, minus the marshmallows.  Kim and I deserted Wisconsin willingly and happily because neither of us likes the cold, the snow, or the ice.  We do, however, like hot chocolate.

 

We have other dear friends who moved back to Alaska.  They find delight in cross country skiing, moonlight walks, and hikes in the woods, and they love that nature resides right outside their backdoor.  Personally, I’d rather watch life in Alaska from afar or read about that sort of life in a book or watch it unfold in a movie. I would be willing to visit, perhaps take a vacation, but not much more than that.

 

I believe it’s all in one’s perception.  But even deeper than that.  More than that.

 

I think our view of the world, our view of events, and all that is within our world . . . all that surrounds and all that is within the events of our world are colored by our perceptions, our experiences, and our thoughts within those moments.

 

I come from a very humble background of growing up in a large family.  We lived on the river.  It was quiet and peaceful and well, lethargic.  Kind of boring, in retrospect.  Kim grew up in a town that has a smaller population than the school I’m principal of.  Her big getaway was when her family drove ten miles to “the city” which by many standards is small.  I like the hustle of the city, of noise and crush of crowds, and the gray concrete and steel of a city skyline.  Kim wants nothing to do with it.

 

Because of my poor background, my heart wrenches when I see poverty, especially as that poverty affects children and families.  I immediately empathize with them.  I feel their pain, their anguish.  My stomach hurts with their hunger.  I’m anxious over their worry, especially as parents try so very hard to provide for their children.  Like my dad and mom did for us.  I grew up in poverty.  I experienced that life.  I know it.  I feel it.  It’s in my blood, my heart and my soul.

 

You see, my eyes are different from yours.  We see life differently, experience life differently, and feel life differently because our experiences, while perhaps similar, aren’t the same.  They can’t be, because what life presented me with was different from what life presented you.

 

And even more than that. 

 

The way I reacted to what was presented to me was perhaps different from the way you reacted to what life presented you.  And that reaction was based upon my own . . . and your own . . . unique experiences in life.

 

The Very Bottom Line?

 

Who are we to judge others . . . each other?   Who are we to question the reasons, the reactions, the motives of one’s actions, each other’s actions?  One’s words, each other’s words?

 

The Very Bottom Line?

 

Viktor Frankl wrote that “Between stimulus and response there is a space.  In that space is the power to choose our response.  In our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

 

The Very Bottom Line?

 

“In our response lies our growth and our freedom.” 

 

As the Knight in “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade” states, “Choose wisely!”  Yes, we must choose wisely because the choice we make sets in motion an everlasting ripple throughout time and space affecting not only ourselves, but each other.  Something to think about . . .

 

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

 

 

Chasing The Dream

I’ve been on stage one way or another since fourth grade.  That year, the grade school choir had a concert and I was chosen along with three others to be in the Wee Four Quartet.  We sang barbershop. 

 

In fifth grade, I was asked to be in the high school musical version of “Bye Bye Birdie” where I played Randolph McAfee.  In sixth, seventh and eighth grade, I was a soloist for the school choir.  In sixth grade, I started a rock n roll band and that continued through eighth grade.

 

In high school, I was a featured soloist in the show choir, Music Explosion, which was a sort of “Glee” before there was a “Glee.”

 

It was also in high school when I sang radio commercials for the boarding school I attended, and cut several demo tapes for a recording company. 

 

That was my dream.  I wanted to sing and record and live that life.

 

However . . .

 

My parents talked me out of it.  They counseled me, guided me, and sort of pushed me into choosing a different path.  At various points they told me that I “wouldn’t make it” that I “wouldn’t make a living” and told me that I “had better choose a career that was more solid.” 

 

My parents told me I was Chasing A Dream.  A dream that was unattainable.

 

Did it hurt?  You bet!  Do I sort of wonder, even now after all these years what could have

been . . . what might have been?  Absolutely!

 

Why do I bring this up now, so many years later?

 

I believe kids are natural dreamers.  Kids dream of being lawyers and doctors and pilots.  Kids dream of being firemen and policemen and football players.  Kids dream of being veterinarians and teachers and politicians.  Kids dream of being singers and dancers and artists.

 

Kids dream.

 

I think that as adults, we owe it to kids to guide and shape their imaginations.  I think that as adults, we need to not only provide nourishment to their bodies and minds, but also provide nourishment to their heart sand souls.

 

I think that as adults, we need to provide a balance between a child’s dream and the reality they face.  That’s a delicate balance because while we want children to face reality, we cannot . . . we must not . . . crush their dream.

 

Truly, I believe the world needs more dreamers.  More dreamers, not less. 

 

There is a satisfaction in the pursuit of a dream . . . in Chasing The Dream. 

 

Aren’t we happier doing what we love?  Aren’t we a little happier pursuing that which speaks to our heart, our soul?  Don’t we owe it to our kids to help them find their way, their path, and their reality without imposing our boundaries . . . our restrictions . . . on them?  Shouldn’t we help our children Chase The Dream instead of discouraging them?   

 

Sooner or later, hopefully later, our children will understand the world and the limits of what they can do, what they can’t do, on their own.  And I believe that on their own is the best way to learn about Chasing The Dream . . . Their Dream.  On their own.  In their own time.  We need to allow that to happen.  We must allow that to happen.  We simply must.  Something to think about . . .

 

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!

The Anticipation Of . . . Nothing!

It’s normal to worry.  It’s normal to plan for and prepare an eventuality.

 

Yesterday, we had reports of a large snow storm headed our way.  Like most everyone in our area, Kim and I drove to our grocery store and stocked up “just in case.”  We didn’t want to be caught short or caught without.  We filled up the cars with gas.  Kim drove to her school to pick up papers she needed in order to complete her grades “just in case.”  Emily studied “just in case” we did have school and she had to write her midyear exams.

 

“Just in case.” 

 

School was called off last night “just in case” it would get bad.  When we woke up, there wasn’t any snow on the ground.  None in the air.  The temperatures weren’t unbearable.  Now I say this as a former Wisconsinite who braved feet of snow and icy temperatures and who attended school with both in the forecast and on the ground.  Yet, it wasn’t until 10:30 AM when the first flurries fell.  Flurries, not snow.

 

“Just in case.”

 

As the day wore on, it got nastier.  Icy roads.  Wind.  Temperatures dropped.  Good call to close school.  It would have been tough for student drivers to get home.  Maybe tougher for buses on the back roads.

 

All of this planning and all of this preparation “just in case” made me think . . .

 

It is good to plan and prepare ahead.  To make sure everything is in order for an eventuality.  We need to protect ourselves and protect our loved ones.  Planning and preparation is necessary.

 

What isn’t necessary, however, is worry.  What isn’t necessary, and what can be harmful and hurtful to yourself and others is the stress that results from worry.  

 

We can’t control weather.  Sometimes . . . most times . . . we can’t control people, their actions, their reactions, and certainly not their feelings or emotions.  Best we can do is plan and prepare and take care of ourselves . . . our own feelings, our own actions, our own reactions. 

 

How many times do we plan and prepare in The Anticipation Of . . . only to find that we planned and prepared for Nothing?  We stressed.  We worried.  We fretted quietly, silently, and sometimes even loudly only for our worry, our planning, our preparation to result in Nothing.  We get ourselves worked up over Nothing at all. 

 

Sometimes it might be best to plan, to prepare, and then take a step back, take a breath, relax, and then let whatever happen knowing that we cannot control it all anyway.  For your own health . . . physical, mental and emotional.  And just as importantly, for the health of those who are near you, who you love and who love you.  Something to think about . . .

 

Live Your Life, and Make A Difference!