What we are willing to do

I recently finished the book "Conversations with the Mann" by John Ridley and it brought up a lot of questions for me about how much we are willing to do to get where we want and what is perhaps more important; how we decide what we want. The story is about the life of a "negro, I mean black, I mean colored"(you will get the joke if you read it) African American comic; how he got where he got and the choices he made even when at the time he didn't see them as choices. The story weaves it's way through the perils of fame, the struggles of civil rights and integration, the quest we go on to find our own voice, the whole idea that when you get where you think you want to get you will finally be happy and the relationships you make and break on your way there. Over and over Jackie Mann is asked what he wants and his answer is simple, "Sullivan;" he wants to be on the Ed Sullivan show so he can really be famous. As a kid he used to watch the show and it defined every choice he would make. I don't want to give away the story because it is worth reading, but my point is that what drove him, his singular purpose defined him and there is much to be learned from that kind of pursuit.

It is a rare gift to know what you want to be when you are young and for that one thing to bring you joy for a lifetime to come, but it does happen. It can get so easy to be stuck on a path because it's the one we started out on that we sometimes never even look another direction and our greatest fear is that we might have to turn around and start over. We say we are going to do something and pretty soon we can't do anything else. Even when it is the right path we can get so comfortable on it that we actually aren't moving at all. Who we are and that thing which brings us our truest joy can be lost in the life we think we always wanted, but which we can't even remember the reasons for wanting in the first place. None of this is to say that we can't find that right path and stay on it into happiness, but the story of Jackie Mann reminds us that we need to be open to other roads that may turn out to be the true journey we are called to travel. If we are not open to any possibility but the one we start out with, we risk cutting off the people and the opportunities that surround us and in the end we may loose the chance to discover ourselves because of what we think we must be.

I suppose in the end the questions we must ask are: How much are you willing to give up to get what you think you want? How do we decide what we need to be? Who are you willing to hurt for your own ambitions? What about you is truly who you are? And the hope of it all is that somewhere along the way we find our voice.

Why?-an old poem remembered

Why?

The crowds gather from all walks of life

Filled with their hatred, ignorance and strife.

They carry signs for their own cause,

but so often it’s more about seeking others flaws.

Down with those of a different race!

Down with those who walk a slower pace!

Down with those who appose our cause!

Down with those whose religion is not ours!

Down with those who don’t agree!

Down with those who aren’t like me!

These are the chants of the many,

But into the din of “down withs” a voice calls out

Not much more than a whisper, but heard like a shout-

Why?

What’s the difference but pigment in skin?

Is your cause a cause or are you just following to win?

Is your God really so small?

Do you really think you know it all?

Have you even tried to understand?

Have ever even been to a distant land?

Are you really so fragile you won’t even open your eyes?

What are you so afraid of? That what you think you know is really lies?

It didn’t take long for the whisper to grow

For the many to quiet and for their doubts to show

A chant that began as one voice becomes the voice of the many

People are looking for answers where there simply aren’t any.

Why?

I wrote a version of this poem more than ten years ago ( I remember the old version as being better than this one, but I can't find it so this is as close as I could remember it). I was reminded of it a few months ago when I walked by a planned parenthood abortion clinic and was accosted by protesters who sit outside in an ongoing rotation to make sure the people walking by or walking in know that if you use birth control or get an abortion, they hate you and you are condemned with no chance of forgiveness. They don't care what your reasons might be or how hard a decision it might be and if you read their signs they don't really make a distinction between the use of birth control and an abortion. The part that bothers me most isn't about whether I agree with them or not about abortion and birth control, it's about their method of sharing their opinion that leaves no room for anything else and their's isn't just a form of disagreement, they are condemning and offering only hate. They call themselves pro-life, but they seem to be only pro your life if you agree with them. Like I said though it isn't the cause that bothers me the most, it's how they are choosing to promote it. I was re-reminded of this just a few days ago when a man who came up to me to tell me how cute my baby is turned his compliment into a commentary on abortion using church language and creating a box where he believes all Christians must live with no room for disagreement. Why do people do that? Why do we create such narrow worlds for ourselves that we leave no room to question and what gives us the right to impose our opinion on others without at least listening to theirs? We do we seek reasons to hate instead of giving ourselves reasons to love? I don't have a problem with protest and I believe strongly in civil disobedience and justice, but I also believe that if your message is about putting someone else down then you have lost sight of justice and likely lost sight of your own goal that you began with as well.

I guess I wish more people would be willing to ask why; including and maybe even most importantly about our own decisions. There are lots of good causes out there and plenty of injustice that needs to be protested, but those protests should start with why too and even when there is no answer (like in the cases of racism and apartheid which have no legitimate reasoning behind them), having no answer is perhaps one the best arguments against them. The point is that we must question and that they reason for doing anything should never be hate. Even my two year old understand the importance of asking "why?"

Prerogative

I hadn't heard this word since Bobby Brown sang about it in 1988 (I hear that Brittany Spears did a version more recently, but it's always hard to top the original). I was listening to a book, there it was and all I could hear was Bobby Brown singing "My Prerogative". Prerogative is about a person's right, a person's privilege and the power you have to decide. It also speaks of "a distinctive excellence" according to Merriam- Webster and it made me think about the things which we actually have control over. The original term has to do with voting in the Roman Senate, but I am not talking about the things for which you have a vote, rather I am talking about the things which are truly yours to decide.

On my most cynical of days I am not sure this includes anything, because even decisions about the furnishings of ones own home (which was the subject mentioned in the book I was listening too) while yours to make are dictated by both your means and the space. Then there are times when you make a decision and you are sure about it, but it can't happen right now for any number of reasons. I suppose that doesn't change your prerogative in making the decision, but is does steal some of your thunder in its implementation. Luckily for me, though I can be quite cynical, I am in general an optimist and I believe that we actually have much more power to choose in this life than we usually think we do. There are the little everyday choices like how we dress, what we eat (I have no problem with picky eaters, you may as well enjoy what you eat), and for the most part how we fill our time (yes there are things we "must do," but we have some control there as well) and I think you do establish your own, "distinctive excellence," your own prerogative in these things. You also have slightly bigger choices and for the most part control over what to be, how to live, and who to be with. You can talk all you want about fate, and it is there, I believe we are placed in certain situations and we meet certain people for a reason, but you still have to take the opportunities that are placed in front of you; you make a choice. Like I said before though, you can make an argument about all the external factors involved and reduce these choices to a kind of limited prerogative, but it's still yours.

Perhaps the one thing that we truly have power over though and which is for me most important to us, is our mind. We choose what we think. We may be influenced by any number of things, from our families, to our education, to the situation at hand, but it is still our choice. No one can make our mind up for us unless we choose to let them. No one can make us feel bad or sad or happy unless we let them. No one can take away our hope unless we let them. In some ways prerogative has the connotation of being the thing which we take control of, not which we are given control of. When we decide that we will be in control of our own fate, our own decisions, when we decide to own what is distinctive and excellent for ourselves and about ourselves; that is our prerogative. When we say (to quote Bobby Brown), "I don't need permission, make my own decisions, that's the way I want to live. I can do just what I feel. No one can tell me what to do. That's my prerogative."

If we have no prerogative we have no self and we simply let the world dictate everything for us. We need to take control sometimes. We need prerogative.

Thoughts on Solitude

I have perhaps been reacquainting myself too much with Thoreau and Merton and watching too many movies like “Into the Wild,” or maybe I am drawn to them because of my own inner need, but I am feeling constantly driven to seek solitude. This is not new, but I am somehow thinking of it in a different way. As I wander the streets of Seattle with my headphones on listening to book after book (currently it’s “Conversations with the Mann”) I close off and I manage to be alone in a city filled with people and noises, sites and smells. I am both a part of it and yet removed voluntarily from it. As I sit in a hospital room holding my infant daughter asleep in my arms, there are other babies, nurses, parents, alarms and a cacophony of other noises all around us, but somehow the rest of the world melts away and it’s just the two of us. Late at night I stay awake and it’s like I can’t sleep unless I have had my dose of solitude. There are days when I feel I could disappear “into the wild” and I think that for myself it could be incredible, but the problem is I care too much about people and about what’s going on in the world to leave it in that way. Instead I steal my time. I sometimes feel the need to slink off to my cabin in the woods, but for now there are more important places for me to be. Even Thoreau realized the need for friends and society and the balance of things social and solitary (he did have three chairs). I feel in some ways I am becoming more efficient in making moments count for more, but the trick I suppose is to take what each moment has to offer and let it feed you in whatever way it will.

When I was in high school I befriended the chief custodian/maintenance person and amongst the many interesting conversations that we had there is one that I have never forgotten because what he said was so profound and it’s always amazing how he saw something in me that I had never really thought about. This was a man nearing retirement who had spent most of his working life in solitude. He worked in the schools for 30 plus years, but to most of the students he was invisible, a servant to clean up after them if they even gave it that much thought, but he actually liked it that way. He appreciated the solitude. It was my senior year and he asked what I was planning to do with my life. I told him I was planning on going into the ministry and though to that point we had never talked about faith or anything like it, he laughed and said, “it figures.” I couldn’t leave it at that, so I asked him to explain and he told me about his best friend who became a monk. He said that he had never met someone so thoughtful, intelligent and comfortable with them self as this friend and that I had always reminded him of that friend so it seemed only natural that I would be going that way too. He talked about the ability to be present in every moment so that if you were with him you always felt like you were the most important thing to him, and when he was alone he understood that was a way to be important to himself in the same way he made other people feel when he was with them. This deep understanding of the need for solitude and the way it can feed you along with the desire to offer a sense of importance to others resonated with me completely. I won’t say that I am as good at it as he was trying to give me credit for, but I will say it’s a goal that I have been conscious of ever since.

I guess the point is that appreciating solitude doesn’t mean you don’t appreciate being with people too; in fact it can make you better at really being with people. I don’t like crowds or large groups, but I care about people. I need solitude and it is where I perhaps thrive the most, but sometimes it’s nice to have someone to walk with and talk with too.

Sunrise sunset

I am in general a sunset person, but that probably has to do with my aversion to mornings and the fact that I live in the west where the sun sets over the water with a backdrop of the Olympic mountains. This morning however I was out for an early morning run and the glimpse of a buck scampering across a parking lot in the predawn light made running that early worth it. His silhouette against the trees as the sun was still just thinking about making an appearance and the full majesty of his proud antlers was something magical to start the day. It occurred to me as I watched the sun peek out over the trees that perhaps I am missing out by not seeing many sunrises (though admittedly I have seen more lately catching early morning ferries or trying to squeeze in a run on a day that is far too full).

As a metaphor I suppose both have their place, but I have to admit that the rising of the sun to greet a new day and to chase away the darkness has a certain motivational quality while the sun setting has instead a sense of something ending and invites a rest and a seeming closure to things. There is a constancy to the sunrise that you put your trust in and while clearly just as constant, the sunset just doesn't project that same feeling. In reality there is beauty in both. The ending and the beginning, the beginning and the ending. The opportunities and possibilities of each new day and the invitation to let things go and rest at the close of the day. One can't help but see the touch of God in the hues of gold, pink and purple as they shine through the clouds, shimmering across the waters like a road calling you to chase along after that glowing orb as it descends around the curve of the world or the coming of the dawn and the light that marches towards you, first kissing your skin and then enfolding you in its warm embrace. With each sunrise and each sunset I feel like I am being given a gift and I owe it to myself to appreciate each one for the beauty and the inspiration they offer. Perhaps we should all be more intentional about seeking the sun and respecting its gifts.

Walking the world smaller

Hastings, Washington DC, Geneva, Rome, Paris in each of these cities I spent time this summer exploring on foot the things you miss when you travel any other way. Much of the time without a map or a guide (which is the only way to explore when on a voyage of self discovery) I wandered around these big cities and they really didn't seem all that big. When Henry David Thoreau was asked why he walked instead of riding he put into perspective the scope of the universe and the reality that no two points on earth are really all that distant when you consider the vastness of the universe. With this philosophy the whole world seems much smaller, and infinitely more explorable. The true color of a place lives not in the center where all the tourists go, but in the the side streets where the locals hang out. I realized the other day that though I have walked these places all over the world I have never really done the same in my home town of Seattle...until now. With my daughter in the hospital and my trips into the city becoming a regular occasion, I have been spending hours each day walking my city and in some ways reacquainting myself with things and in other ways learning the city from a whole new perspective. I probably couldn't drive the city any better than I did when I first learned, but I am learning all the ways to walk and it's made me appreciate the place of my birth more than ever. The touristy places like the pike place market have a local flare that makes them less touristy and more just what we are, but the thing about walking is that you see the people more and a place becomes less about the places in it and more about who lives there.

I realized today that even in the pouring rain I would rather take the passenger ferry than drive into the city because it allows me my walk. Most people might think that you have more freedom when you can drive your own car where ever you want, but I think freedom is more about how you see the world than how you travel in it. When you walk the world smaller, you can think the world smaller too and perhaps those things which seem out of reach won't really seem so far. It's funny to think that after having taken planes, trains and automobiles all over the world, it was on my own two feet that the world opened up and invited me to explore it.

The Photo book

The other day my daughter was sitting on my lap for something like 45 minutes to an hour looking at pictures in her digital photo album. It's one of her favorite things to do and she seems to think that's all a computer is for. She also has a photo book that tells the story of her entire life so far (all two and a half years of it) which she sometimes carries around and often demands that we go through together. You could argue that she likes looking at pictures of herself, but I think it is more about wanting to remember things that have already become blurred in her mind or about which she is still just beginning to understand. Our ability to record things has come a long way in just the past few years, but there is something about those printed pictures, whether in a box or a book, which makes the memories so much more real than anything else. It's as if somehow touching the picture is like reaching into the past and we can almost feel as if we are physically transported to that time and place. When I graduated from high school my mom made a book of pictures and achievements and I suppose it was a lot like that book my daughter has with just a few more years of life to it.

I can remember as a child my parents bought a video camera and every Christmas we would sit with my whole extended family and watch the videos of the years before. The thing was, those videos didn't speak at all to the people who weren't there, they are somehow more intimate because of the detail and yet more limiting too. It was fun to watch them as a family and share the stories of all that you can't see in the video, but it's also like there was too much there and it took away some our ability to share what was behind the images on the screen. When you share a photograph it invites people in in a different way and the story becomes yours to tell in all the richness of the memories it invokes.

When I left the first church I served the youth made me a collage picture book and even though it has been more than six years, when I looked at the book the other day while moving some things around a shelf it was like it was just yesterday. When I walk through the halls at my parent's house they are still filled with pictures of my brother and I as kids and while a part of me says that there is a time to take them down and move on, they remain a tangible reminder of some special times that otherwise might be forgotten. It would be nice if we could recapture the joy that is so evident in those adorable early childhood photos. Perhaps that is their greatest gift to us in reminding of us how much joy is possible when we refuse to allow it to be diminished by the pressures of life.

With every new experience our photo book grows and so does our chance to remember the things worth taking photos of.

Addendum- After I originally posted this I went for a run (in the falling snow which was beautiful despite the cold) and I was knocked right back into my nostalgia, because as I rounded a corner I was confronted by an old Ford truck painted fluorescent yellow. When I was in high school one of my closest friends, Aidan Kennedy (the "laughing loser" featured in the movie "10 things I hate about you) had a great big old Ford truck painted that same shade of yellow. It's amazing how that one image called to mind all the adventures we had in that old truck. I don't have any pictures of the the truck, but seeing one reminded me of drive in movies, late night adventures and a dislocated shoulder, plus lots of other things. I was struck by how powerful the flood of memories was from that one image, but I guess that was kind of my point anyway. It's true what they say, "a picture (or a fluorescent yellow truck) is worth a thousand words."

Expectations

We are all waiting for something. Waiting for the phone to ring. Waiting for our prayers to be answered. Waiting for the next book in the series we really like to come out (I know it seems a little more trivial than the first two, but it is waiting). We are waiting for something to happen. Waiting for that thing, the thing which tells us what we are supposed to do, who we are supposed to be, where we are supposed to go. We sit with our expectations both great and small, good and bad and eventually we feel like we need to do something. The thing is, it’s the things we can’t control that eat away at us the most and sometimes we don’t know where to place our trust or where to look for answers. Hours, days, weeks, months, even years can go by in the waiting time and just when we feel like we can’t wait any longer something gives us hope, or maybe we even get our answer, the answer.

The struggle is that while we wait we often don’t know what we are really waiting for and yet we try to prepare in our expectational way for every eventuality. We need our expectations. They drive us; they keep us going, they give us something to look forward too, to work towards. We like to think that it’s not a matter of if, but when and perhaps how. The reality is we have to think that way because otherwise we end by giving up. Things don’t always end the way we expect them to, but that should never dampen our expectations.

How long are we willing to wait? How long is too long? Do we get to a point when the waiting has consumed us and we just want the rollercoaster to stop and let us out? Or do we persevere because the chance of something great is worth whatever we have to go through to get there and we want it to be great. Do bad days get us down or do they instead make us that much more thankful for the good ones. If days come when we can’t handle it and we just break down or want to lie in bed all day does that make us weak, or does it simply mean that we are human and that a part of us understands the need to take care of our self because if we don’t we won’t be ready, we won’t be able to enjoy it when (notice the when) great comes.

There is a point at which we must adjust our expectations, but only we ourselves get to decide when that point comes. The thing is, when we adjust we don’t loose our sense of expectation, we allow one thing to be what it is and we open ourselves to other possibilities and the creation of new expectations.

We are all waiting for something. How we wait can define us or break us. We need our expectations. We need hope.

Perspective

William Blake: "To see the world in a grain of sand and heaven in a wild flower,

hold infinity in the palm of your hand and eternity in an hour."

It's all a question of perspective. We have to expand our perception and begin to consider, maybe even to understand the relationship between that grain of sand and the world, between that flower and heaven, to believe in our ability to hold the infinite and to make that one moment last an eternity. At the same time we have to understand the opposite. The sand is the world and yet is in the world and just a part of the world. The flower is heaven, but at the same time is not heaven and is rather a glimpse at what could be or of the unfathomable which is so much better, so much more beautiful and incredible. When we grasp the infinite we become limitless and at the same time we limit it and often find we need to let it go. A moment, an hour, a week, a year, a lifetime is an eternity in the moment and yet only a moment in eternity.

When we fail to see both perspectives we become truly blind. When we miss the world in that grain of sand we loose the significance of that single grain and when we see it all in that single grain we can loose everything else. If we fail to see heaven in the flower we may loose hope and if we see heaven as the flower we may miss the heaven in all that surrounds us. If we hold infinity and become limitless we may loose direction, but if we limit ourselves we have no need for direction because we aren't going anywhere. If our eternity is wrapped up in a moment we may become stuck, but if we don't live as if each moment could be the most important in our lifetime, we fail to live.

To see the world and heaven we have to have our eyes open, to hold infinity and eternity we have to be willing to grasp at them.

What makes an expert?

Is it some degree, or title? Is it an experience? If you have done something does that make you an expert? How many times do you have to do it? When you become one does that mean you have nothing left to learn? If your source material is from 20 and 30 years ago are you still an expert or just an expert on how thing used to work (admittedly there is much to be learned from the way things used to work and we often wish it still did)?

A few months ago I was teaching a class on preaching to a group of people who had all been preaching longer than I have, but who were eager to get better and wanted to hear a different perspective. I am not a well recognized or published expert on preaching, but I was asked to share how I prepare and how I preach and I think we all (including of course me) got something out of the experience. I guess that's the thing that separates the person who sees themselves as a teacher and the person who thinks of themselves as an expert. Good teachers are often experts in their field, but more than that they are those who know that they don't know everything and are excited about the process of learning together by bringing collective knowledge into a form so that it can be both useful and insightful.

I was sitting the other day and listening to an "expert" say a lot of things that seemed really obvious and I would have much rather spent the time talking to the other people around the table about what they were doing (this may have something to do with my learning style, but I was not the only one who felt this way). The person talking certainly knew the subject and had great things to share, but there were disconnects for the way it had worked for him and the way it might work in our contexts. Sometimes we try really hard to listen to the right consultant, to take the right class or read the right book so that we will know what to do, but the problem is you never really know until you have tried it. I love teaching and I love learning, so I am certainly not saying we shouldn't take classes, read books and attend lectures. I know that sometimes we do benefit from the "expert" and their experience and knowledge, but sometimes I also think we sell ourselves too short. The "non-expert" who has tried something will often have insights that an expert for whom everything worked (they are an expert after all) would never have noticed. There is so much which can be learned from the person who is experiencing something for the first time, that the person who has done it a hundred times has already forgotten.

I believe that there is something to be learned in every situation and that everyone is an expert on their own experience. We have to be open to every opportunity, every experience that's presents itself. The person who doesn't understand something is most significant to anyone who seeks to reduce the amount of misunderstanding and ignorance in this world. If we ignore the "non-expert" we loose an opportunity. If we leave behind the person who wants to understand, but doesn't we have failed. When something seems perfectly clear to you, but doesn't to someone else it should force you to think about it in a different way. If you want to be an expert, teach and never stop learning. If you want to be an expert become an expert in helping people erase their misunderstandings. All that is wrong with our world has at its very core the seeds of misunderstanding and ignorance and an unwillingness to learn or to try.

An Oryx and a Zebra

I was reminded of Yann Martel's "Life of Pi" and the concept of Zoomorphism when the first animals my daughter and I saw at the zoo were an oryx and a zebra standing side by side eating grass together. Zoomorphism is the concept of one species learning to see a member of another species as a part of its own or as a god. In the book he focuses on a lion seeing a dog as a mother figure, but his point is about a relational need. The lion cub needed a mother and the dog was willing. When I see these two animals sidling up to each other it's inspiring. I wonder how their families feel about it? They occupy the same "savannah" so why not get along? Why not do more than get along, why not hang out? Maybe the two of them eating together will inspire the other animals to eat together too. At the very least the other animals will start to ask, "why are they hanging out?" If they ask that question maybe they will even try it.

What if the relational need is as simple as, "I want someone to spend time with?" Or I need a friend? Or, "we live in the same place why can't we get along?" We live on the same planet, why can't we get along? (you had to see that coming) Eventually you have to think it goes beyond just spending time together into a relationship of support, friendship, care, maybe even love (admittedly I may be reading a lot into an oryx and a zebra standing next to each other at the zoo, but often an image, a quote, a person inspires what it inspires regardless of what was actually there). For me every example set by those who are willing to see past differences is a good one and has that very potential to inspire. I have written about it before and I suppose I just get excited when I see it being lived out. It makes me wonder who the zebra is out there that I have never thought to stand with and it reminds me of how much simply standing together can do and how much more there is to learn by being together. I hope I never miss the chance to get to know those who are different from myself.

My daughter has a book called, "What if Zebras lost their stripes?" and it makes the case that even if they separated into some being black and some being white, "zebras are much to smart to let that come between them." The story is told over and over again through things like this and the classic Dr. Seuss book "The Sneetches." The fighting, the arguments the separations always seem silly when we're through, but then we come back out of the story and into our lives the walls are still there. They are there and will be there until someone is willing to climb to the top and stand with someone from the other side of the wall for all to see so that the wall becomes a platform instead of a barrier. The walls are there until we are willing to look past it.

The oryx and the zebra give me hope that the walls won't always be there and they remind me to climb up and to see beyond. Maybe it's the zebras; I hope we can be as smart as the zebras.

Fashion-a lesson in the superficial and why sometimes even the superficial is worth being intentional about

I must begin by saying that I do not presume to tell anyone how they should dress. When I was in High School I was chosen by my peers for the award, "most uniquely dressed" for wearing leisure suits and tuxedos on every Thursday and for a general flamboyance that I seem to have at least partially lost somewhere along way. I am not sure this qualifies me to talk about fashion, but for some reason I am feeling compelled to do so. I still have my own style, but I suppose that perhaps my creative energies have moved into other arenas. My point in writing this is not to judge anyone or say one thing is better than another, but to simply make note of the fact that clothes do make a statement that for me is more self reflective than it is something to be projected onto others. As with everything for me it comes down to intentionality.

My family was playing the game, "Imagine if..." on Thanksgiving(this is a game where everyone votes for the thing which most fits a person and the majority wins) and one of the cards directed at me was, "imagine if Darryn were an article of clothing, which would he be..." the options included: a tailored suit, a sports jersey, a thong bikini, Carhartts and work gloves, a grungy T-shirt and I think the last one was pajamas. The vote came out in favor of Sports Jersey with tailored suit as a considered second choice. The game is interesting so play with people who know you and sometimes even more interesting to play with people who don't. This was a question about what type of clothes best express who I am and it made me think about how much your clothes can say about you. I have always been an athlete so I understood my family's choice. It wasn't about the things I actually wear, but rather about a personality that is conveyed by the clothes. Jerseys have a purpose and most of the time they are worn by athletes participating in a sport, but it is interesting to note that the sale of sports jerseys to the general public is a billion dollar business. This made me think about other articles of clothing that get worn in general, but which were created for a specific purpose.

The other day my daughter and I saw a woman in full equestrian gear. It made sense, since she was in fact riding a horse (though even in this case I am not sure it's a look that works for everyone). My daughter liked the boots so later when we saw someone else wearing the same (or very similar) boots she pointed them out as "horse boots." This second set of boots was being worn by someone who was not riding a horse so naturally my daughter asked, "where's her horse?" A fair question given the circumstances. The person wearing them actually looked good in them and perhaps she does ride horses or should take up riding them, but the boots did seem out of place at the time. It made me think that, in a way, all clothes are like a uniform, they say something about who we are, what we are doing (or planning on doing), our faith (I don't wear clergy collars as a fashion statement), formality and informality and all sorts of other things.

People spend a lot of money on clothes so that they can look a certain way. The other day I bought a shirt whose suggested retail price was $185. It's a nice shirt and I like it a lot, but I wouldn't even think about paying that much for a shirt, so it makes me curious about the people who do. It's not about money or the ability to buy certain clothes, it's about priority and choice. Why do you dress the way you do? What does it say about you? If you don't care about how you look, do your clothes say that? Again it's not about judgement for me, it's about a form of expression. People should wear what they want to wear, what they feel good in and what makes sense to them. I get that we are sometimes limited by circumstance, appropriateness, affordability and other factors, but as someone who believes there is a reason for everything (though we rarely understand those reasons) I do think there is a lot of room for intentionality in what we wear. No matter how much you pay for something or how good it looks on someone else, if it isn't you it isn't you. I realize that clothes are superficial and just like you can't judge a book by it's cover you can't judge a person by their clothes, but sometimes the superficial is all we show people, so I think it's worth considering what image we show and what we want people to see. Like I said before if you want people to know that you don't care what they think, you can say that by your choices, I just hope it's what you mean.

Stung

It's the end of November and wasps are supposed to be hibernating right? There I was standing in my hallway doing laundry on a cold Sunday afternoon and I felt something on my neck. I reached back and was immediately stung by a wasp just as I grabbed it and threw it away from me. I have no idea where it came from, but it occurs to me that as a metaphor, getting stung by something that came out of nowhere is kind of how it goes sometimes. I am not talking about deep emotional hurt or loss here, but rather the unfortunate occurance, the disappointment, the slap in the face that kind of shocks you. I suppose I am fortunate that I don't have an allergy (this isn't the first time I have been stung) and I am glad it stung me instead of my daughter who was standing with me and who was very concerned that something had hurt her dad (we are supposed to be invincible). It hurt and swelled up briefly, but the pain went away pretty quickly and I am left wondering whether there are more wasps lurking and waiting to sting again.

There are all sorts of learnings here about getting over the sting quickly and not allowing it to make us afraid and those are probably the most important things, but it's no fun having to get stung to learn those lessons. I once fell into a nest and was stung more than fifty times, but the difference is that it was my fault. I trampled their nest and they were defending it. Today it just happened. Sometimes we can't predict, we can't really prepare and even when we don't do anything to deserve it we can get stung. I hold no grudge, but I also don't plan on making friends with a wasp anytime soon. In the long run it's how we deal with the setbacks, how we recover from the times we are stung that ultimately will defines us. It's never about moving on and forgetting, it's about learning and carrying on in the face of the harsh and the difficult. Sometimes we get stung, but we can't let it paralyze us, we can instead choose to be made stronger by it.

Then again, maybe I am grasping at metaphors and the reality is, I actually did get stung by a wasp so perhaps the lesson is simply: "don't grab at wasps; they might sting you."

Swim

Anyone who knows me knows that I have an Ipod filled not with music, but with audio books. I don't listen to music much (though I do have a habit of bursting into song), but every once in a while I encounter a song or an album that intrigues me. It's rarely about the music for me, it's almost always about the lyrics, the words. Eddie Vedder's sound track to "Into the Wild," especially "Society," anything by the Doors, "End of My Journey" by Harry Stewart, "It's Hard Our Here for a Pimp" (had to throw that in to see if you are still with me), the sort of song that has a lesson to give. Last night I heard such a song on the Daily Show and it brought to mind something I had already been thinking I would write about.

Saturday morning we took my daughter swimming. She is fearless in general and jumps in with the full trust that either someone will lift her up or that she will find her way up to the surface somehow or another. When she dives under water she kicks and paddles not in fear, but with a determination that she will swim. There are all sorts of life lessons here about trust, conquering fears, making your own fun on a Saturday morning and every one of them points for me to a sort of self reliant determination.

The song, "Swim" by Jack's Mannequin uses swimming as its metaphor for not just keeping your head above water (though the song ends with this), but for continuing to paddle even if it feels you are going against the stream. It's when you feel you might be drowning, when you are being pulled away from the things you love that you need to swim harder. There is a social commentary in the song about swimming "for the lost politicians who don't see their greed as a flaw," and "swimming through wars without a cause." It's always interesting what you can read into someone else's words, but I hear the song pushing for the determination to "swim through the hurt" and to keep on working for good and positive things despite what world leaders might do, and maybe even "for them" so they can find a way past all the things that get in the way of positive change.

The song and my daughter's determination are personal. Like I said they speak to me of self-reliant determination, but the song brings it into the world beyond self too. It is easy to feel overwhelmed by the torrent of life going on around you, but even when faced with the flood waters, we need to jump in and swim harder. We need to conquer our fears, we need to trust that somehow, someway we will rise above, we need to have fun on Saturday mornings and we need to be determined.

A place of self

I was doing yoga the other day and was reminded of a guided meditation that was a part of a workshop called, "The Spiritual Journey." Our teacher talked about how we all need a place where we feel safe and free to be truly ourself, a place to escape to in a sense. One common form of meditation is to be able to go to that place in your mind even if you can't go there physically. For some it's an imaginary place, but for most it's a place that holds in it a deep emotional connection. It may be a place from childhood or a place where something significant and good happened. It could be the top of a mountain, a bench with a view, your room at home (I know someone who says it's their bathroom because that's the only place they are truly alone), or even a store that you like to wonder through (my daughter and I used to wonder through the hardware store every Monday just dreaming of projects, but rarely getting anything to actually work on something). I guess the point is that it really can be anywhere so long as it's a place where you feel the most true to yourself.

We usually think of these places as ones that are private and individual, but sometimes it's a place that you shared with someone who helped you feel that freedom and safety so that in a sense that person is your place. I remember that when I did the exercise it was easy for me to choose a place, because there was only one place that ever really felt like a retreat for me and it was my family cabin. I usually go there alone now, but the memories I have that make it that place for me are more rooted in family as a place where we would go to be a family with no distractions. We would play games into the middle of the night and my brother and I would go off on an adventure in the morning.

I guess what made me want to write about it is that I was feeling a little off center and it was the meditative exercise during a day at home alone that took me to that place. I was reminded of how important it is to not only have a place of refuge, a place of self, but how important it is to let yourself go there (even it is just in your minds eye). Even the person who lives most in the present has roots in the past and the future looses meaning when you loose yourself and don't have that special place to hold on to. What a gift it is to have a place of self.

An Ode to Dessert

Dessert is my favorite part of a meal. It's amazing how a good dessert can make a bad day seem not so bad. I have always had a sweet tooth (inherited from my father), but I am not so much a candy person as I am a dessert person. It's one of the main reasons I exercise (maybe not the main reason, but it seems like a good reason not to feel guilty about indulging in dessert). The other day I walked three miles to find a gelato place in downtown Seattle and though the gelato was just good not great, the combination of the walk and the gelato were invigorating (I may be exaggerating the effect of the gelato, but I did feel pretty good after the two). Gelato has become my dessert of choice lately and though it wasn't as good as the gelato in Milan I am glad to have found a place in Seattle that was pretty good. I am doing a survey of the lemon tarts at the local bakeries too, but I have yet to find one that I feel like I have to go back for a second.

So you might be asking, "why in a blog focused on knowledge and experiences would I spend a whole paragraph on dessert?" My first answer is that the pursuit of a good dessert and the enjoyment of sweetness in all combinations of flavors do in fact seem a knowledge gaining experience for me. My second is that I actually think letting yourself enjoy dessert is a valuable lesson in life. A wise woman in one of my congregations had a rule that when we would go to lunch everyone had to have dessert. I think she was teaching us to always save room for the good stuff. There are plenty of things we have to do, but it's those extra things, the sensations of indulgence and the sweet joy of the thing you do, not because you have to, but because you really want to, those are why we live. There is something to be said about a great meal and taking care that even in the things you have to do they are good, but we need room in our lives for the extra joys, whatever they may be. Dessert has a curative effect on me. When I am down or bored, a good dessert (both the metaphorical dessert and the real) can shock me back into seeking the positive joy of every moment. I wrote earlier about adventure and that is a dessert for me. A good book, exercise, games with friends and family (looking forward to the holidays) those are dessert for me; and I am a dessert person. Whatever it is for you, you need to leave room for dessert. I would probably go even further than that and say, you just need to leave room for it, you need to seek it out and enjoy every bite.

El Dios Vivente

I had the pleasure of worshiping with the congregation of El Dios Vivente Iglesia Metodista Unida. Admittedly my spanish is poor, but I have said before that if the spirit is in something then language need not be a barrier. It was a cold and wet day and attendance was about a quarter of what they usually have with only a few families huddled together in the front row, but it was inspiring to see the pastor, full of energy, singing, praying and preaching as if there were thousands. The songs were played from a CD with a jazzed up latin flare that you couldn't help but get into. The rhythm moves you and it's like your whole body receives energy from the pulse of the music and the passion of the singing. The sermon was preached from one of the same texts that I had used earlier that day, but the message was something completely different. He talked about preparing yourself for the end of days and living each day with the assurance of salvation (that's what I got out of it, but remember I don't really speak spanish). There were some parallels between what he preached and what I did about the permanence and impermanence of things, but from a whole different angle. It was a great lesson in context. I was honored to give the benediction (I wish I had been more prepared with something in Spanish, but the pastor translated for me) and was glad that I had made the trip to offer my support for the ministry that they are doing.

I was reminded of the power of simply being there, the power of showing up and standing with someone. It takes courage and passion to preach in a church built to hold several hundred with a congregation of ten. To be able to look on those few people and know that you have to do it for them you owe it to them to find within you the same energy that you would if there were ten thousand in attendance. Even if you are preaching to ten thousand you also have to see them each as one person seeking. It goes to show that when your message is hope, there is no room to be discouraged. I hope that I can worship with them again and perhaps even absorb some of the passion and grace they have in abundance.

Adventures

Left to our own devises I asked my daughter what she wanted to do for the day. Her answer was, "read books," which is a great answer and on many a day I would be happy just staying home and reading books, but the sun was shining and the outside worlds was calling. I asked, "do you want to go on an adventure?" "Yeahhhhhh!" she roared as her immediate response. Then she asked a very important question, "Daddy, what's adventure?" which prompted me to explore the whole idea of "adventure."

Webster's dictionary defines adventure as: "a hazardous, exciting or risky undertaking." As an optimist I struggle with that definition. I get the exciting part, but hazardous and risky speak only to me of the unknown and the possible so I am afraid that the definition is a bit off putting. I fear that the even slightly timid will be kept from adventure and miss out on the gift of exploration simply because it labeled as something hazardous or risky. Adventure is a journey into the possibilities both known and unknown. We take risks simply by getting out of bed in the morning (or not getting out of bed), but I understand that when most people think "risky" they think of rock climbing (we did see some people rock climbing and in a few years maybe Ainsley will be ready for that one), sky diving, white water rafting and things along those lines. I remember when I was a freshman in college at the University of Alaska Fairbanks and we were given all these different options for an orientation trip. I chose, "white water rafting" and the permission form mentioned the possibility of death something like seventeen times. It's easy to see that kind of thing as an adventure, but is the possibility of death really our criteria for adventure? It is not an adventure to do something new, learn something new, try some strange food, travel to a distant land, explore a forest; adventure like life is what you make it (or maybe that should be the other way around). Even your daily routine can be an adventure if you make it one.

I guess for me it comes down to a state of mind. Pushing your own bounds and living into the freedom of adventure depend entirely on your outlook. You don't have to climb mountains, throw yourself off of cliffs, jump out of planes or travel the world to be an adventurer. What you need is to be excited for the possibilities of every moment and to have the willingness to jump into the opportunities that life presents you with. Life is an adventure and the question is, "are you going to sleep through it and be bored with it or are you going to live it fully and be excited by it?"

Trolls under bridges

As I crossed Fremont Ave. it made me think of the whimsical troll carved out under the bridge, where tourists come and movies film (10 Things I Hate About You), and of the whole idea of trolls who come out to stop us. I met the other day with a group of bridge builders; ecumenists trying to bring people together and I couldn’t help but think about whether it really is the troll under the bridge, the things we see as blocks to our coming together that we fear, or if it is more the idea of what happens once we cross the bridge that scares us. Even the existence of a bridge means change, it means we don’t have to go around things any more and it means that new possibilities exist, so there’s plenty of resistance to building bridges, or even finding bridges as the case may be, but I am more concerned with who will use them once they exist. Who will stand in the gap and stick their tongue out at the trolls beneath in defiance or simply acknowledge their existence with a wave and cross over anyway. We need bridge builders, but we need even more people who will be bridge crossers. Those who are willing to step into the territory of the other, to learn about what exists “over there” and maybe even close or narrow the gap and perhaps go so far as to crush the trolls in the process. Those who go around the gaps have a roll too, but I don’t think we really get anywhere if we ignore the trolls or pretend that gaps don’t exist.

Maybe I am just using a new metaphor to say what’s already been said, but I think this is something else. We often talk about the “elephants in the room,” the things we won’t really or don’t really talk about, but to me those aren’t the trolls. Those may be the things, which prevent bridges being built in the first place or the things that the bridge builders never talked about, but if the bridge exists then those things aren’t what is blocking people from crossing; so what is? Apathy? Fear of losing yourself? Fear of change? Maybe the builders have not been clear enough about how to cross or about what it might look like as we go back and forth and sometimes meet in the middle. Maybe we think it has to be something big, some grand gesture with fanfare, but what if it’s just a couple of friends from different traditions sitting together in a public place showing that it is possible to cross that bridge. My point is that there are lots of bridges out there waiting to be crossed by those willing to stand up to the trolls. We must be willing step out.

Raking Leaves

From green to gold, orange, red then brown they grow and they dazzle until they fall only to be raked into piles for children (and those who wish to be childlike again) to dive into in a final celebration of their gift to us. It's easy to miss amidst the dreary gray of a cold and blustery fall day, but autumn is when all of creation's colors are truly on display. All the shapes and sizes each similar, but with their own signature, unique as snowflakes yet bound together by an inevitable fate and letting go only when their job is done. Even a leaf must have a sense of purpose. It captures the energy of light and drinks in all that it can while it can; working every moment so that its tree, its mother, its home, its roots can live, can carry on and grow to be stronger and better because each leaf does its part. i wonder if a leaf could choose or if more leaves gave up too early, how would the trees ever grow to reach the heavens?

Every element in creation has a purpose, a job and though that purpose may change and adapt like the colors of a leaf, it doesn't go away even when it's ignored or missed. From my point of view we owe it to our creator to seek that purpose and we owe it to creation to do our part to ensure that what we leave behind is better, and stronger than what we came into.

What incredible opportunities we have to dream and to grow when we are willing to reach for the heavens in one moment and to jump into the leaves on the ground in the next.

Deport

I feel incredibly guilty when I catch myself judging someone else, but I try pretty hard to move from judgment to a compassionate desire to engage and discover why they feel the way they feel. AS I was leaving the hospital the other day I was behind a person whose bumper sticker said, "illegal aliens are not immigrants," and whose license plate says, "Deport." The bumper sticker is one thing, because those can be placed in a moment of fervor and there isn't the same kind of permanence (though I did see a political sticker from 30 years ago the other day) as a license plate. The license plate means that they are so sure of their position that they are willing to pay extra to clearly state that opinion to anyone who happens to see their car. i suppose if I were to get a single word license plate it might say, "simplify," or "intentional," but even with either of those I would hesitate to apply them without reservation to every situation that might be facing the person who is reading my plate.

I doubt that I will ever get the chance to talk to this person about why they are so strongly in favor of deportation, but it does make me wonder how prevalent that sentiment might be. I think back just a few years to a proposal from President Bush which called for imprisonment followed by deportation for any illegal immigrant pretty much regardless of circumstances. in most instances the people i heard in favor of the proposal felt a lot of fear about drugs and "those people" and anger of a perception that "my taxes are paying benefits to them," without actually looking at statistics pointing to illegal immigrants more consistently paying their fair share of taxes that legal citizens or considering anything beyond their perceptions. it's the last part that gets to me; when people fail to consider anything more than what they already perceive. There are very few absolutes in this world. I don't say that there should be no rules, but circumstances, context and reason always need to be considered.

Just like the fact that I have no idea why this person feels so strongly, I worry that they won't let themselves see why someone else might feel just as strongly in the opposite way.

I apologize for any judgments that I have made. I know that every situation can be looked at from a million different ways and I believe that unless we are willing to look from the viewpoint most opposite our own then we are in no position to declare anything.

Agendas

Just because you know your own agenda does not mean that it isn't hidden from others. How much do we leave unsaid because we assume that others already know? How often do we simply jump right into something without laying the foundations to prevent misunderstanding. If we trusted more in each other this might not be so big an issue, but we don't. Perhaps in the case of agenda setting we don't know our own as well as we should and people can see that. This argument goes deeply into the whole idea of doing things simply to do them or doing them because we think that's what we should do. We earn trust by how genuine and how authentic we are. Intentions do matter and if we are unsure of our own maybe we need to think more about it. Follow-through is a big deal too.

When someone raises a concern about hidden agendas, that means, at least in some way, they don't trust you and assurances that there aren't any may seem hollow even if you believe yourself. I for one assume good intentions (yes I am aware of the saying, "the road to hell is paved with good intentions"), but I also think it's critical to understand motivations both in yourself and in others. I may not agree with your agenda, but at least if you give me a chance to hear it we can begin to understand each other. The other side of this is that even though your reason for doing something and my reason for doing the same things might not be the same, it doesn't mean we can't work on it together.

We can, we must and we will work together and we will be doing ourselves a favor the more clear we are about why we do what we do.

The Extraordinary Man The Invisible Man, the Native Son and the Entrepreneur

Books can push the boundaries of our knowledge and force us to think of things in a way that we otherwise could not. They offer us an experience through the eyes of others and it’s easy to read into them more than was intended, but there is a gift in how a story can play on our imagination. Any book whose cover compares it to Ellison's "Invisible Man" Wright's "Native Son" and Dostoevsky's "Crime and Punishment" has a pretty high standard to live up to. "The White Tiger" by Aravind Adiga lives up to it. The story telling is great, but the depth of social criticism/observation is what makes it smart. Plenty of people will read it and find it interesting, but when you consider it in the light of its call from the darkness it is so much more.

Dostoevsky's Raskolnikov makes the case for the extraordinary man; the person who can commit a crime, even a murder and it should be excused because of the greater good which is possible due to of the existence of this extraordinary person. Part of his own personal reasoning is that in ridding the world of a bad person he is able to rise up and do more good (not that he actually does a whole lot of good, but the argument is more about potential). Munna/Balram, aka. "The White Tiger" doesn't try to make the argument, he tries to live the argument, to show that even though his crime is a crime, the result has offered something new and good to others. His rise offers a different perspective to others that are like he was and creates a new way of doing things, maybe even a better way of doing things. They are two men with potential whose circumstances are preventing them from realizing the possibilities they imagine. On the other hand "The White Tiger" is also a version of Bigger Thomas driving around the rich man who is part of the establishment, which suppresses him and feeling empowered by every step towards the eventual end. He feels stronger when the deed is done. He is the invisible man not even really understood by those in his own world and who is discovering his eloquence by telling his own narrative, but he has also become one of the visible even when it seemed impossible.

The liberation from the chicken coop, the breaking of the cycle and the defiance of caste hold in them the power to inspire (though hopefully not to murder, but perhaps to revolution). It's a modern tale of oppression and a person finally having enough. The portrait is of a reality, which contains an understanding of how things are and yet at the same time his refusal to be limited by them. That truth is revealed by the clarity with which he can be both critical and contemplative in the portrayal of his own life. Perhaps the most important realization is that it is not just his own culture, his own country, but the influences of the whole world, which both created his cage and pushed him to get out of it. You can't help but hear the underlying critique of western culture and the almost playful prodding into the vagaries of Chinese culture as well.

Wrapped in the framework of cultural criticism, corruption, murder and personal narrative we are forced to ask: What must we be willing to do to accomplish the impossible? How do the powerless rise? Can one person's triumph be called a revolution? Do the ends justify the means? Is Raskolnikov right about extraordinary men and their ability to bend the rules or even break them so that something good, something “extraordinary” can happen? Or on a personal level, who are your invisibles; the people that you don't see or who you fail to recognize the value of?

Philanthropy

This summer there was a show called "The Philanthropist" that aired six or seven episodes. The premise was that a billionaire looses his son and on a business trip to Africa he ends up saving the life of a little boy about the age his son was and it inspires him to a kind of ultra philanthropy of risking his life and using his money to make positive things happen in the world. There's more to it than that, but my point is not to give a review of the show, but rather to ponder the motivations for why we do things for others.

It might be nice to have the financial resources to bring medicines to help cure or vaccinate an entire country, or to have the kind of influence to open a border so that food and water can get from one village to another, but just because most of us can't do those things doesn't mean we can't do good. So, what makes us give of our selves, our time, our energy, our passions, our hearts and every other resource at our disposal to do good for others?

Ultimately for the average person it comes down to believing in the possibility of a better world and being willing to do something about it. It also comes down to believing in yourself enough to see that you, yes you, can make that difference or at least be a part of it.

We tend to see philanthropy as what only the rich can do, but the reality is that we all must be philanthropists. The word itself means, "love of humankind." We all need to care enough about humanity to fight for it. We have to be willing to stand up when rights are being taken, when people are starving, when injustice occurs. If we love humanity enough and believe in ourselves enough, the world can be better, the world will be better.

Cheese/Pumpkin

It is truly a gift to know what you want. To be consistent in your likes and desires (not in a sense of excluding those things which you may not like, but rather a confidence in the things that you do) can make some of life's decisions much simpler. When I asked my daughter what she wanted her pumpkin to look like there was no hesitation; "cheese." Cheese is one of her favorite things (especially orange cheese) so I suppose it just seemed obvious that her pumpkin should be carved to represent something she likes. It was just as simple for her when asked what kind of birthday party she wanted to have; "orange" and she has already decided on "white" for her three year old party. If only every decision we make could be this simple. "This is what I like, there is no need for it to be something else, so this is what it will be." Maybe most of our decisions probably should or at least could be that simple. It's not a question of denying variety or of avoiding new things, it's a question of finding that thing which you truly love or which you enjoy and letting that love or joy be your guide.

I get that there are often extenuation circumstances and external influences and I am in favor of change and new things, but so often if something seems good and right we need to give our selves permission to just go with it. At times this kind of thinking creates the need to ask forgiveness and the simple becomes complicated, but other times a pumpkin that looks like cheese is just right.

seriously

The most persuasive argument is often made by the one who is able to be serious and deal with serious things without taking them self too seriously. I think this is the appeal of shows like The Daily Show and the Colbert Report. Every once in a while they may cross the line, but even those who may disagree can listen to them in a more open way because of the way they present things. Dr. Mustafa Barghouti was on The Daily Show tonight and while I admit that to even go on The Daily Show you have to have a sense of humor, what I appreciated was that he was addressing a serious issue that clearly holds deep personal meaning for him, but he could genuinely laugh it off when someone in the audience called him a liar and even sincerely offer to talk with the person one on one. He even made a joke about Mickey Mouse. I don't really want to talk about the points he made or even the issue of Israel and Palestine, what I want to take note of is the way he talked about it. In dealing with any polarizing issue you really do have to be able to sometimes disassociate or find some way of easing your own tension. If you can't, you run the risk of getting so caught up that you can't hear any voice that does not sound like your own. We have to be able to not only hear, but dialog with those who disagree with us otherwise we get no where. It gives me hope to see anyone, especially leaders who have the willingness to listen, the ability to respect and the desire to engage. Those who are willing to debate in the highest and most sincere way and to maybe even change their minds for the good of the people are the ones we need.

the parts and the whole

The tea shop in town has a pineapple carrot cake that I enjoy a piece of every couple of weeks. Today I got a piece on the way to the park with Ainsley so we could share a snack while we played off our excess energy for the day. When we took a break from testing every apparatus at the park to see if it was still the same as it was the day before, we bit into our treat and enjoyed the combination of flavors as the moist cake melted in our mouths. After a couple of bites Ainsley asked, "what's in it?" Ainsley loves to help cook things and she has an insatiable curiosity so this question wasn't exactly a surprise. The surprise came when after the first ingredient I listed (pineapple) her response was, "I don't like pineapple." I have never heard her say she didn't like pineapple before, but the part that got me thinking was that she liked the cake despite of the things in it which by themselves she may not like. I don't like walnuts, I don't like eggs, and I am not really even all that fond of carrots, but I like the cake too and all of those things are in it. I could do without the walnuts, but otherwise it really is good.

The thought however was not about the food, my thought was about how often we can fail to appreciate something because we get distracted by the parts. Rarely do we find something that we can truly say we like every thing about it or them, but if we can focus on the whole, perhaps we can appreciate the parts which go into it. If you love someone that doesn't mean that you like every little detail about them, but what you love is how everything about them comes together to make them who they are.

That part sounds great, but what happens when we use the same logic applied to other things (beyond love and food that is)? Is it the same concept as "the ends justify the means?" Are we supposed to appreciate or at least get past all the parts that go into a positive outcome because the outcome really is good? I guess that's the problem when we take a metaphor about a piece of cake too far.

Reality is somewhere in between. The parts do matter, but so does the whole and sometimes we have to look at things both ways.

Awkwardness

Aside from the fact that "awkward" is an awkward word, I was confronted today by an awkwardness that occurs far too often. I took my daughter to an indoor play space where usually she is able to see some of her friends, but today there were only a few kids there and she didn't know any of them. The strange awkwardness I felt was I as followed her around the room (at her request) I walked by the other parent's and kids and though we acknowledged each other's presence it was like some barrier prevented us from actually talking to each other. I am not an extravert, though I often play one in my life, so I will own some responsibility for the awkwardness, but introvert or not once I actually pondered the situation I couldn't help but feel silly. How often do we find ourselves in situations like this? The kids didn't seem to notice though they kind of ignored each other too it wasn't so obvious and there were no pretensions, they were just too busy doing their own thing. It's funny to me because I find myself willing to talk to strangers in situations where I have more reasons not too, but here I was in a group that shares an affinity- we have kids in the same age group and we are living on an island together where I am fairly well known and it took me nearly twenty minutes to say hello and introduce myself. I am not sure why, perhaps it would be a good study to attempt to explain awkwardness, but I also have a feeling that it's awkward because there is no reason for it. I did eventually speak up and start a conversation, but it couldn't erase the vestiges of the barrier that like a cloud still separated us.

I suppose this falls into the category of "wouldn't it be nice if..." but I find myself instead wondering what awkwardness teaches us. Apprehension, fear and even anger have a way of motivating us or protecting us, so maybe awkwardness can do the same. Maybe the answer is to always ask why and the opportunity is to move beyond it or retreat into it. Either way I guess that until or unless awkwardness seises to exist we may as well learn from it and I feel a sort of calling to find ways of removing it where ever I can (starting with my self).

The kindness of strangers

With a 35lb wiggly two year old in one hand and an umbrella in the other I walked in the driving rain to preschool this morning while dressed in my nicest slacks and black leather shoes as I mentally prepared for the funeral that I would be presiding at in just an hours time. The walk is probably not much more than a quarter mile and I prefer not to drive anywhere that I can walk to, but today I had considered it. About halfway to the school I saw a man in a silver VW golf pull over and start backing towards us. I didn't recognize the car or as it turned out the man inside it, but it was clear that he was pulling over to talk to me. As I pulled even with him he rolled his window down and offered us a ride to where ever we needed to get to. I was touched and inspired by this stranger who saw us getting quite wet despite the umbrella and offered to help. I declined since we were only about one hundred feet from our destination, but I thanked him profusely for stopping and offering to keep us dry.

A couple of years ago when my eldest (is seems funny to refer to her as that since I sometime still can't believe I have another daughter who I hope will come home from the hospital soon) was born I wrote an article for the local news paper about how babies bring out the best in people. People smile more and traffic comes to a halt when a person with a stroller wants to cross the street, but today I don't think it was because I was carrying the cutest two year old on the planet that this man stopped. I think he stopped because he saw someone who might need his help and he had the means to help. It made me think about how great the world would be if we all did the same. Imagine a world where everyone who sees someone in need and who has the means to help is willing to stop, even if just for a moment, and offer what they could, what a world that could be. Not everyone would take the help and not everyone we think is in need is actually in need, but I believe that even the offer effects us. To encounter the willingness to help can be more powerful than the help itself.

I believe that all people have in them the kindness that the man in the silver golf had, but it's nice when people are willing to let it out.

A Second Bill of Rights-FDR

Yesterday afternoon I went to see Michael Moore's new film "Capitalism: A Love Story." I found it only slightly ironic that a movie critiquing capitalism was showing at one of our great edifices to it; the shopping mall, but in reality that is not the side of capitalism that Moore was focusing on. I feel like I could write a dozen or so blogs about the things brought up in this film (or at least the things that made me think about other things while seeing it). Perhaps I will, but for now I want to lift up just one very significant piece where he highlighted a speech made by FDR in January of 1944. In that speech FDR called for a second bill of rights that included:

"The right to a useful and remunerative job in the industries or shops or farms or mines of the nation;

The right to earn enough to provide adequate food and clothing and recreation;

The right of every farmer to raise and sell his products at a return which will give him and his family a decent living;

The right of every businessman, large and small, to trade in an atmosphere of freedom from unfair competition and domination by monopolies at home or abroad;

The right of every family to a decent home;

The right to adequate medical care and the opportunity to achieve and enjoy good health;

The right to adequate protection from the economic fears of old age, sickness, accident, and unemployment;

The right to a good education.

All of these rights spell security. And after this war is won we must be prepared to move forward, in the implementation of these rights, to new goals of human happiness and well-being." (as found on http://www.worldpolicy.org/projects/globalrights/econrights/fdr-econbill.html)

As I heard these being read by President Roosevelt I couldn't help but think of other similar lists of rights like the "Universal Declaration of Human Rights" (http://www.un.org/en/documents/udhr/) which came just four years after FDR's speech or the Millennium Development goals (http://www.un.org/millenniumgoals/), the list of lists goes on and on including the Social Creed of my own denomination which in 1908 called for many of the same rights.

"1908 Social Creed The Methodist Episcopal Church stands –

For equal rights and complete justice for all (people) in all stations of life.

For the principle of conciliation and arbitration in industrial dissensions.

For the protection of the worker from dangerous machinery, occupational diseases, injuries and mortality.

For the abolition of child labor.

For such regulation of the conditions of labor for women as shall safe guard the physical and moral health of the community.

For the suppression of the “sweating system.”

For the gradual and reasonable reduction of hours of labor to the lowest practical point, with work for all; and for that degree of leisure for all which is the condition of the highest human life.

For a release from employment one day in seven.

For a living wage in every industry.

For the highest wage that each industry can afford, and for the most equitable division of the products of industry that can ultimately be devised.

For the recognition of the Golden Rule and the mind of Christ as the supreme law of society and the sure remedy for all social ills."

The problem is that these lists of rights are just that, lists of rights. How many people have even heard of them, much less read through them? And more to the point, who is doing anything to make them a reality and not just a really nice goal to have "someday." According to the agreement made by all member nations of the UN the "Universal Declaration" was/is supposed to be "disseminated, displayed, read and expounded principally in schools and other educational institutions, without distinction based on the political status of countries or territories." Is that happening? The front page of the Millennium Goals website talks about the gap in support where countries are failing to live up to their pledges. How can there be a greater priority than that of human rights?

I know that there are good things going on in the world and good people working to make the world better. I know that each one of these lists has well intentioned people behind it and the hope of becoming a reality. I also know that each of us could do more than we are and I know that not enough people know. The National Broadcasting Company (NBC) has had a public service campaign entitled "The More Your Know" for the past 20 years and I think their goal is a good one: to let people know what they can do.

Sir Francis Bacon said that, "Knowledge itself is power." I believe that the more you learn the less likely you are to stand by without doing something and the more likely you are to stand up when your own rights are being infringed upon. I have had the privilege to teach about social justice here in my own country and abroad and watch as the lights go on in someone's eyes as they begin to see themselves as a person of worth, a person who has rights. Just imagine if everyone had that light in them; darkness, evil and oppression could not exist.

People need to know and people need to act.

Short Cuts

I was out for a run the other day and it just wasn't going well. My legs felt heavy and perhaps in the back of my mind I was lamenting my lost glory days and briefly allowing myself to dwell on the fact that at least in this I am but a shadow of my former self. As I ran I began to think of corners I could cut and short cuts I could take (no one would know but me, but then again no one would care but me either). The funny thing is that my thought process lead me into a deeper place of reflection on short cuts in general and somehow the running got easier so I ended up runner further in stead of actually taking a short cut.

I am not in favor of doing things the hard way, but I don't appreciate taking the easy way out either. In math for instance, we often seek the short cuts and I just saw a man on TV who is called the "human calculator" because he has perfected the short cut. As I think back on it though I will never forget the lecture I received from my uncle (the math teacher) about the beauty of showing all your work and appreciating a well thought out proof. I was reminded of this lecture the other day as I watched "The Big Bang Theory" where for several minutes they depicted a montage of two physicists staring at a mathematical formula for days (all set to music of course) and I suppose I realized that everything else perception is in the eyes of the beholder. For the person who loves math they can appreciate both the short cut and the long way as much for the ingenuity and creativity it took to come up with the short cut as they do the way it simplifies things and still want to look at it both ways (just for fun). I run and I rarely take the short cut because I am running to run, not to get somewhere faster.

If you can do something better and faster most of the time you should, but sometimes the journey matters more than how you get there and I can respect that too. In life I like to do most things fast, but in my daily living I appreciate the little moments and almost never hurry. My hope is that we don't miss something in the rush and at the same time can be thoughtful enough to remove the obstacles that don't need to be there.

The Artistry of God

On an evening run at sunset my first thought was to burst into the song, "Sunrise Sunset," but my second thought was about how incredible this universe is. If there is ever any doubt that God is an artist all one needs to do is look to the heavens. I have had the privilege to see sunsets paint the mountains in every shade of purple and pink and to watch over the vastness of the oceans as the sun grows impossibly large and then falls off the end of the earth. I have seen the sunrise paint the dense green of a forest with its golden hues and bring out the most dazzling colors that can even make a dirt road look beautiful under a canopy of leaves and light. I have looked to the heavens in a place where our light is not allowed to diminish God's and I been awed by the shear number of the stars above glowing in the immensity of the universe. I have walked through snowy fields bathed in the reflection of the northern lights, the aurora borealis, a splash of every color dancing in the dark cold sky.

In every instance I can't help but wonder how different the world might be if every person in it took the time to admire the artistry of God in these moments that happen every day. You don't have to be in the forest or at the ocean or in a remote northern field to appreciate the glory of creation, but you do have to be willing to look up and recognize the artist who made us all.

Making Mountains

My daughter has this thing about making mountains. In the yard she finds dirt or even grass, but today it was sand at the beach. I am not sure where she got the idea, but somehow today I saw it as something more than a child's game. Today she made mountains for each of the people she loves and then proceeded to dismantle them. it made me think of the mountains that we build for ourselves. On the one hand, we set goals that become our mountains to climb. These are good mountains so long as we are willing to either make the effort reach them and to keep them in sight or if we are willing to set them aside as something we no longer need. I actually think this kind of mountain is critical to avoiding a kind of complacency that leads to a life without goals. Unfortunately i also think there are too many people who are so afraid of not reaching them that they refuse to set goals or who are too afraid to go after what they really want, so the mountain remains something they simply look at from time to time as something beautiful, but too far off to reach. I guess i don't believe in the unclimbable mountain and for me the joy of life is in both the attempt and the achievements of reaching our own personal summits.

On the other hand there are also the mountains we build up as obstacles to our achievements, the ones that obscure our view of the promised lands beyond and which we use as excuses. I suppose it was these mountains I was thinking of as I watched my daughter demonstrate how easy it was to both build them up and to dismantle them. it was as if she was showing me something in her two year old insight about our ability to overcome and the power we possess in our freedom.

We spend our lives making mountains and it's up to us whether we see them as exciting goals to reach for or as the unattainable which stands in the way of what we really want. I think we need more mountain climbers in this world and I for one am always looking for the next one to climb.