Chloe the Dog

 

We had to say goodbye to my office companion of the last 10 years. A runaway picked up by a local shelter, I knew as soon as I saw her she’d be mine.

They told me she was house broken…then she peed in the car on the way home. House broken…car broken…semantics. But she was a keeper from the very start. I guess that’s what happens when a dog pees in your car and gets away with it. 

She was a climber and a chewer. High energy. But I noticed she was skittish at times…like when I brought the paper in from outside…skittish enough to make me wonder if she was abused before she ran away and was picked up by the shelter. 

Her name was “Tootsie” at the shelter, but I could name her whatever I wanted, so Chloe it was. We’ll never know her original name. We’ll never know anything for sure about her first 6 months…except she escaped it. And she landed with me. And we were good for each other.

We were a team. She’d chew my stuff and I’d buy new stuff. She’d eat and sleep for free and I’d buy her food and new beds. I think she chewed through her first 8 beds. Maybe it was 9. Doesn’t matter. I’d’ve bought her a 10th if it came to that. That’s what you do with a dog you love. 

After a couple years she settled down to focus on her career. She was a lifelong pursuer of squirrels. She studied them daily. She mapped and plotted relentlessly. She’d run zoomies in the house as if in training. She only caught a squirrel once, but when she adjusted her grip, it escaped. As time went on she chased less and eventually settled for watching squirrel-vision from the comfort of the back deck. 

Her health problems befuddled me. Surgeries mounted. Vet bills? Kind of don’t remember how much. Honestly. That’s really not so much the point. But when her body is done…it’s done.

I’m saying goodbye..but I won’t have a chance to forget. I’m pretty sure her hair will be in my truck until the day my truck dies. And those smudge marks on the window… I just might leave them there for a while as well. 

Figure It Out, Or Don’t

 

I haven’t figured out life yet. So how could I pretend to have Facebook figured out? I don’t… or is it …I haven’t? See, I don’t even have the vernacular figured out. But one thing I have figured out, is there are lots of people from my past that have figured out how to generate positivity. And I’m not talking about the fake manufactured positivity. So…generated may not be the best word.. but this positivity I’m talking about seems to flow naturally and effortlessly. I like that. I think we all do. 

One time many years ago my car just quick working …on a busy interstate… during rush hour. Kaput. Turns out it was electrical…nothing I could do. But I was stranded…cars veering around me. I was that vehicle causing a backup on the major throughway on the radio’s evening traffic report. 

I had never been so glad to see a tow truck pull up behind me and divert traffic with its sheer size and mostly its blinking lights. I was being rescued and I didn’t even have to call. And before you think it was just some guy circling around waiting for an accident or stalled car…I was in a bind… actual danger…in my compact car…stuck in a middle lane during rush hour. I was very happy to get this help so quickly. 

So…we did our basic talk to get my car out of the way and on its way to a garage, and the driver asks me if I taught high school math at a certain place. I said yes..and asked his name. Turns out, he was a former student…and really…he literally got me out of a dangerous jam. 

This happened way before social media. Mobile phones were just beginning to be a thing. But over the years, I’ve had curiosity regarding many of my former students. The tow truck driver? Turns out he’s a magnificent professional photographer now. I “like” his quality photos on a regular basis. They take me to familiar places in ways I’ve not experienced quite like before. 

Another student in a couple of my classes early on…sold my house a few years ago…with excellent service I’d recommend to anyone. 

Another former student treated one of my kids in an urgent care visit. 

Another guy I called to have my carpet replaced…gave me 5 star service. I didn’t even realize he was a former student until a couple of phone conversations. I then learned it was his last installation before going into real estate himself. I lucked out by getting him when I did. He did a great job. I consider he and his wife great people I’m honored to call them friends now. 

So yeah, I’ve ventured out a bit and became Facebook friends with quite a few former students. Good people. I don’t know how else to describe it. And it gives me good feels. Again…cheap language, but maybe you know what I’m talking about. 

Several former students went into education as teachers or counselors. Man... I hold them in highest regards. 

Some went on to be outstanding musicians…ones that I have paid money to see. One of them, I connected with, and he gives me guitar lessons from time to time. And he asks me if I’ve practiced…and I have to confess that I’ve been slack. Oh the tables have turned. 

So yes, I use Facebook to see how other people are doing life. And of course I know we tend to put our best on display. But sometimes you can just tell. Sometimes you know good people when you see them. And those are the types of people I want influencing my timeline (or whatever it’s called).

I’ve got an odd collection of social media friends. I’m Facebook friends with some of my mom’s friends. I’m Facebook friends with some people I haven’t even met in person, or only met once, because I saw positivity that I thought I’d like to influence my feed. 

So no, I don’t have social media figured out. I don’t know the rules…if there really are set rules. I just like drawing some positivity once in a while from people and pages I find encouraging. And I hope to genuinely provide a bit of that myself.  

A Shoutout

 

A shoutout to people who still know how to use filters when they speak, realizing the ultimate objective is not putting others in their place, but to create an environment where dialogue, learning and growth are valued.

A shoutout to people who still know how to dress modestly in public, realizing the world is not your personal space for you alone to be comfortable in. 

A shoutout to people who reprocess information, realizing that not everything was covered comprehensively in 5th grade. 

A shoutout to people who don’t create terms primarily to use as labels to insult those they don’t agree with. 

A shoutout to those that question from a position of curiosity rather than question for the purpose of condemnation. 

A shoutout to those who listen with the intent to understand. 

A shoutout to those who seek peace, even if a solution is not in sight. 

A shoutout to people who realize they are not stuck in traffic, rather, they are traffic. 

A shoutout to people who purpose to explain less with words, using actions more. 

A shoutout to people who act positively when the cameras aren’t on, and there’s little or no chance for attention. 

A shoutout to people who don’t need to  say “read that again”.

A shoutout to people who don’t have to be first in order to be winning. 

How My World View Failed Me and Everyone Else

Without going into particulars, the worst thing about my or anyone else’s world view is calling it a world view. I always should have kept it as simply a personal belief system. But once I promote my belief system to a world view, I’m basically proclaiming what “should” be for all, in order for the world to be a better place. That’s how a belief system (abbreviated bs) turns to BS. If everyone believed as I do, we’d all be better off (according to world view holders). Anyone who deviates from my belief system will inevitably encounter consequences which automatically are classified as “you problems”. Should’ve done it my way. Should’ve believed like I believe. 

See…it’s BS.

What I want now is for my belief system to be considered with as much courtesy and respect as the next guy’s. I don’t have to have certain stores celebrating my belief system with belief system friendly merchandise. Just compatible. Compatible with mine, no more, no less than the next guy’s.

Have you ever wondered where John Lennon got the lyric “Imagine there’s no heaven”? I haven’t researched and studied his philosophy. But my guess is he would be pretty elusive in his description when asked. And a lot of people I’ve known over the years really wouldn’t put much stock in his explanation anyway, as they’d prefer to apply their own explanation on his behalf with or without his input. Like…Lennon was anti god, anti heaven, and that song is proof. 

Well. I don’t know about that. Certain thoughts spring to mind when I consider that lyric. One thought is that it seems to me that many people’s endgame to their belief system is based on their view of eternity..the hereafter…heaven. And so they develop their belief system based on what matters in light of eternity..and consequently promote that as a world view for the here and now. 

How many wars have occurred because differing world views were in conflict? Because differing interpretations of the afterlife are applied to formulate these world views?

Side note: I love free will. But for the life of me I can’t figure out why people would war with others over differing religious beliefs. If God gave us free will, isn’t He already allowing for differing thought processes? And He gives everyone their lifetime to think it out…freely? So why would anyone take it upon themselves to truncate God’s timeframe for someone, especially if it resulted in eternal damnation? Wouldn’t God call those into account for playing god and cutting short a life He was allowing to live longer..under free will?

Anyway. 

So…imagine that dynamic didn’t exist..the striving to promote one’s world view over another through persecution, conflict and wars.. I can see how that could result in more peace here on earth, if that dynamic didn’t exist. Instead we have world views supposedly based in morality derived from divinely inspired writings..being forced upon the populations using whatever corrupt political strategies achieve the desired end result…free-will be damned. 

People see through that and are disgusted. I know I am. 

My personal belief system is fine for me. If we talk and help each other think through life’s difficulties…awesome. But I’m not going to impose my belief system on you or others. Nor do I want that from you. Of course we live under common laws for the sake of civility. And right now common laws allow me to observe my personal beliefs to the fullest extent I personally enjoy. That’s never really been in jeopardy in my lifetime, despite what fear some try to promote in an effort to secure their own belief systems while opposing others. 

I’m done with that, and have been done with that for years. 

Peace. 

…Or not. 

Much of that is up to you, depending if you can be at peace letting someone else live according to their belief system that is different than yours. If it bugs the hell out of you, well, that sounds like a you problem. And maybe that’s why peace is elusive. 

Born in 98

I was quietly awaiting my turn to get called back. Another patient walked in and was giving information to the receptionist. Something something 1998. A mere child I thought…. born in ‘98. Sheesh. I had to look up to see how young this child was. Except I didn’t see a child. I saw a burly man with a burly beard. My brain raced. 24? No way, I told myself. But honestly, he could’ve been two years into a profession by now. 

98, sigh. I had grandparents born in 98, or sometime in the 1890s. And this grown man was 100 years younger than my grandparents. Mind blown. In an instant 100 years flashed before my eyes. 

I’ve been to quite a few appointments recently. Getting poked, injected, imaged, and diagnosed. I’m actually quite ok. Well, part of me isn’t. But that isn’t anything new. Until recently I’ve been oblivious to a condition I’ve had my entire life. Why it took 60 years to manifest itself in the form of recognizable symptoms, I have no idea. I guess my case hasn’t been very severe. So I’m lucky in that regard. 

In today’s world my condition can be identified before birth, and in some cases even repaired in utero. That technology was not available when I was born. And like I said, I didn’t even experience outward symptoms until I was 60. And now my condition can be repaired laparoscopically. Most patients receiving my procedure are kids. Actual kids, not just by my definition. A couple of times some instruments had to be replaced because they were pediatric, not adult sized. But they can repair old guys like me too. It’s an amazing age. 

And the body is an amazing thing. We can both be resilient and fragile at the same time. Haven’t we all been rendered powerless by a single eyelash? And we’ve recovered from surgeries…that were brought on by other frailties. 

This recent health experience has made me more aware of my own aging process. I wonder what else is ticking in my body, and is just a matter of time before another dashboard light comes on. I’m also much more thankful to have a healthcare system that routinely checks for and treats issues I may have. I’m really fortunate in that regard. 

I’ve pretty much given away my age here, but I consider myself barely a boomer. I’ve never really bought into the boomer vs millennial drama. Most of the people taking care of me the last several months have been millennials. And I couldn’t be in better hands. Maybe it’s different in other fields. But in healthcare…millennials are nailing it in the workplace. At least, that’s been my experience. I bet that’s the case in other fields as well. And you know what? That gives me peace of mind. I’m not getting any younger. And nobody has called me “boomer” yet. And they won’t. They’re too respectful for that, in my experience anyway. 

Shoot…I’ve even been helped by some Gen Z’s along the way… gasp. Some of them are quite burly by now, having been born in …‘98…or so. Maybe we’re not quite so different after all. We’re just at different experience levels. That’s it. I’m at Boomer Level 61. Just a kid to some. Waiting for my childhood surgery, with the rest of the kids. 

My Year In Review

Once again I was named Luckiest Man of the Year…again…a streak of several years in a row now. The regularity is kind of like the Chiefs winning the AFC West, or the Jayhawks basketball team winning the Big12 title. Pretty consistent for years now. 

And I hope to continue that streak with this new year. If you’re like me, then you know I struggle with the word “luck”. I’m not sure I really believe in it. Maybe I believe more in dumb luck and smart luck. Smart luck is where you position yourself for good things to happen, then are still blown away when they do. And I’ll take whatever dumb luck comes my way. I still don’t know how to describe it. But I can’t exactly bring myself to say God has blessed me with all the excess I’ve accumulated or hoarded for myself. Nor can I say He hasn’t. So, for now, I’m calling it luck…with a wink and smile looking up, hoping for a wink and smile in return, realizing I may never receive it. But I’m still looking up with anticipation. 

Here’s to looking up with a wink and a smile in 2022. Happy New Year everyone. 

Give Generosity A Chance

I know what my natural tendencies are. I tend to hold on to what’s mine with a tight grip. I’ve earned it. Grown it. Not about to let go of it. It’s like that’s my natural default setting. But every once in a while I deviate. And, the results aren’t always the same. But there’s something about being generous that gives ME something that accumulating and holding tight can’t. 

I know. We can talk about motives all day. I’ve given to get. I’ve given for all the wrong reasons. But occasionally a well intended act of generosity has made its way from me. And it’s difficult to put into words, but sometimes the results for me are exhilarating. Not always. But sometimes. I’m thinking we all like that experience. But our defaults to accumulate and hold tight are similar as well. And it’s tough to let go. 

I don’t believe in giving until it hurts. And I would dissuade giving to get. I think we also have a built in sense to detect those who prey on others’ generosity. And we stay away from those types. Largely. Most of us. Yes, I know some give to a fault. But I also think we can discern and detect good opportunities to be generous. Not a guilt driven obligation. But an honest…I want to do this generous act…just because…and not need much of a reason. 

Recently someone commented on one of my food pics and I think it encapsulates what I’m talking about. The person described how sometimes they’ll buy an extra Papa Murphy’s pizza, put it on the smoker, and deliver it to someone who’s having a bad day. I wasn’t soliciting some do-gooder response. But I thought, what a great thing to do… when the motives are simple and pure. Super easy, but very impactful. 

Confession: I can’t remember the last time I put gas in my truck. Gas prices are a sensitive topic and I don’t want to be tone deaf in my narrative. But it’s been months since I’ve put gas in my truck. For one, I work from home, and I just don’t drive that much. But also over the last several months I’ve loaned out my truck to four different people who returned it with more gas than was in it when they borrowed it. Yes, that’s a decent thing to do when borrowing a vehicle. But I think generosity begets generosity. And to me, that’s a bit exhilarating. And it made a positive impact on me. 

Another thing…I didn’t initiate the process. I wasn’t going around …hey, want to borrow my truck?? (Nudge nudge wink wink, know what I mean??) …with hopes of getting my tank filled. The opportunity for me to be generous came to me. And when I said ok, I truly received more than I gave. I am aware of gas prices. In this case I felt like I received more than I gave. 

And no. You can’t borrow my truck. And yes, I still have a tendency to cling to what is mine. But I also know that to let that grip go once in a while can be a glorious thing. Rewarding in ways other than financial. It can just be good for the soul. 

Give generosity a chance. You just might enjoy the results. I bet you already have and you already know what I’m taking about. I sincerely hope so. 

Thank you for reading. 

The Book of Proverbs

(What it’s meant to me)

At a relatively young age I was aware that I was missing a strong positive male influence in my life…and left unaddressed, that dynamic could be problematic for me long term. Sure, I gleaned a little here or there from teachers and coaches. Yet I  hoped for more input, and honestly had to deal with disappointments in part due to my unrealistically high expectations and hopes that someone would step up and step in to help fill my gaps. Other disappointments were more reality based, as some men are jerks…but more on that later.

So, getting to the point, I leaned heavily on the teachings of the book of Proverbs. The book of wisdom was written by Solomon to his sons, based largely on the teachings he received from his father, King David. Really, one would be hard pressed to find mentoring any better from anyone else from any point in human history. 

No, I did not have the benefit of personal exchange or interaction while reading .. there was no asking questions, getting specific feedback on issues…how to shoot a basketball…talk to girls…set the condenser points on a distributer on an older model car …you get the idea. But I was able to read at any time, wise words from wise men. 31 chapters is an excellent format as well. Today is the 9th? Easy. Read Proverbs chapter 9. It’s only 18 verses. Miss a day? No big deal. Catch it next month. But, set out to read one chapter a day, and your mind will continually be exposed to wise words.

And that was my pattern, for many of the 30+ years to follow. No, I’m not claiming to be wise because of it. But I do claim to have received some direction from it. 

My approach was to first of all read as if looking in a mirror. Proverbs provides contrasts…wise behavior vs foolish behavior. Wise people vs foolish people. And when reading while looking in the mirror (figuratively) I had to determine what kind of man I wanted to be. And when it came to the company I kept, I had to determine how others measured up with what I was reading on a regular basis, and purpose to associate with some, and distance myself from others. 

Let me pause for a moment to state something about judging others. We are wise to first judge ourselves. But having good judgement includes the company we keep. What you do with your opinions of others, for their benefit or hurt, speaks volumes to your level of being judgmental. You can keep opinions to yourself or you can spread them. And yes, the book of Proverbs has plenty to say about that as well. 

And another disclaimer…just because I read the book religiously doesn’t mean I followed it. Many days I did not…to my own hurt, and to the hurt of others close to me. But the reading and digesting of the book of Proverbs over time became my reference point. My solid ground. If I strayed, I knew where I strayed from, and could find a reference point to return to. That was like gold to me.

You can find plenty of areas of controversy in many other parts of the Bible. But it’s fairly simple in Proverbs. See a person who creates falsehoods to get his own way? Don’t be like that guy. And stay away from him and people like him. See a person who takes something not belonging to them? Don’t do that, and stay away from people who do. Simple, but powerful. And so applicable to today. 

So much noise can be heard today on the topic of masculinity. But don’t be fooled. Many people are claiming their masculinity is under attack when it’s really toxicity that is under attack. Big difference. When I look in the mirror I have to ask…is my masculinity under attack? Or is my toxicity under attack? Personally, I am not threatened when toxicity is under attack. I’ll only be better if I’m less toxic. And honestly, I’m not sure why some men feel threatened, unless being toxic somehow helps them achieve their ends. And I try to avoid those types. But maybe they feel threatened when their go to tool is in jeopardy. 

When I was 14 a teacher/leader in my church recruited me to get into a fight with his son. Yes, he pulled me aside and told me he thought his son needed to toughen up, and asked if I would initiate the task of beating up his son. I respectfully declined, but I’ve often wondered about that proposition. It conflicted with nearly everything else I had been taught in my young experience of church. I was small for my age, and I wondered if I was being set up… used as bait… to start a fight just so his son could experience a physical victory after rising to the occasion. I wasn’t from a church family. So, I’d just be blamed for being a ruffian. His son would be justifiably defending himself against some bad apple. Who knows. Glad I didn’t bite. But tough stuff for a kid my age to try to decipher. 

But I think that’s the approach many toxic men take towards their masculinity. If respect doesn’t come naturally, fight for it…even if it means beating it out of somebody else. However, there’s a better way. Read Proverbs, looking inward while doing so. And leave toxicity by the wayside, along with others stubbornly clinging to it. 

Thank you for reading. 

Closure

I’ve often wondered about the concept of closure. Sometimes I think it’s a word others use to describe your situation so they can stop thinking about it. And they want you to validate them by accepting their wish of closure for you. And I think that shortchanges the concept of healing. 

Instead of closure I think there may just be various stages of healing. The open wound phase is the worst, and obviously not a place anyone wants to stay in for any length of time. So anything that closes the open wound is welcome. But I don’t think I’ve ever been around anyone who has completely healed from significant wounds. There are always scars or reminders that something happened and God forbid, could happen again. And much of life is navigating through those troubled waters of uncertainty. And I don’t think that journey fully concludes this side of life. So I always feel a bit trite wishing someone closure. What I really wish is for a continued healing process and peace along the way.

The Beast Card

I mean, that’s the real enemy, right? The Beast? And his mark, that we’re to avoid at all costs, or basically forfeit our soul? Sure, the Bible prophesizes about it. In the end times…perilous times will come. But the key is to know when to play that card. Now is not the time. Play it too soon and you’re like the karaoke singer who comes in too early on a song…and if persistent is off the entire duration of the tune. 

Play your card when it’s time to play your card. Not before. Timing is everything. We’re trying to get through a pandemic. The vaccine helps us do that. Other unproven methods…let’s face it. They didn’t make the cut and now they’re trying to get a participation trophy. Sorry… your methods are unproven and largely untried…because they weren’t good enough to make the cut. The medical community went with something else and this isn’t Burger King where you can have it your way. This is still a pandemic. And the overwhelming majority of the medical community supports vaccination and masking. 

So put your beast card away and save it for another time. You can only cry wolf so many times before you’re not taken seriously. And some have already passed that threshold. 

Oh, and another sign we’re in the end times…men will be lovers of themselves. So, for the sake of humanity…consider what’s best for others as well as yourself. Vaccinate and mask up.

Kindness Wins

 

Last week was my first flying experience since pre-covid. And although I’ve not been out much the last year, I wasn’t really looking for interaction or even up for people watching. Yet I had a couple of airport instances that made an impression on me. I’ll tell you about one now. 

I was in a waiting area having just ordered a sandwich. A young gal…I’d say in her upper 20’s, was in front of me also waiting to pick up food when a grandmotherly type came up to her. They had a brief conversation in Spanish and the elderly lady went to find a seat at the younger gals direction. At least, that’s what I’m assuming based on the exchange. As soon as the elderly lady was out of earshot the younger gal turns to me and quietly says “she is so lost”. I’m assuming a lot of things at this point and judging right and left in my head…cuz really, who doesn’t …thoughts like…how nice of them to travel together, but that was a little disrespectful…to…I guess my patience could be wearing thin under those conditions as well… many thoughts in an instant. However, the young gal quickly followed with “no, she is really lost (I’m wondering what facial expression I may have been wearing). I don’t even know her” she continued. “She just came up to me and asked for help. She even gave me her purse to carry”, as she held up her arm as if I was judging her selection of purses. Again, I briefly tried to figure out my facial expression…though I wasn’t judging the purse selection at all. “I told her we’ll figure it out while we eat”, she continued. 

I often don’t know what to say when things unfold suddenly before me. I wanted to say something encouraging. “She trusts you”, I uttered the obvious. No, that wasn’t enough. “That’s very kind of you”. There…that was really it. Not the greatest revelation. But man, what a dose of what we all need, and maybe haven’t been exposed to for so long. Kindness. Strangers helping strangers. A news item for the evening telecast? Hardly. But I was glad to see an episode of kindness unfold right in front of me.

The Majority

 

You take your teen’s phone away because you were told they used it to bully online. They squawk about their right to free speech. You say “sorry...them’s the rules”. They mutter something about you not stopping child porn... but you take away their ability to speak... You wince a bit because, well, that just doesn’t make a lot of sense, but you’ve heard that argument recently, and it seemed to make sense in a different context, so you let it slide. Agitated and without much thought you lift your hand and say “you’re free to speak to the hand” and you walk to the another room to have a seat. 

You’re a little shook up because right before this unpleasant exchange with your teen you Googled “Libertarianism” because you thought you’d start a profile on a different social media platform and the creator is Libertarian. And you discover that libertarians don’t see age of consent the way you do. And you started wondering how they’d crack down on anything else harmful if they don’t take a stand on age of consent. And that comment about not stopping child porn still really bothers you...because, well, you don’t want to rethink age of consent in order to justify that argument you had against big tech. Your mind drifts... you actually wanted the party that’s against big government to override the states’ electoral vote. And now you want the government to regulate big tech...so a bully can continue to ...well, bully..in the name of free speech. You tell yourself your child is no bully...as you hold their phone in your hand, and you know why you took it. 

In the corner of your eye you see a Blue Lives Matter magnet on the fridge the exact moment the news covers the officer killed in the capitol riot. For a quick second you mutter “all lives matter” then you gasp and look around to see if anyone heard your slip. You ponder that maybe his life didn’t seem to matter to those rioters or protesters or whatever..but you stop that thought...not because it’s wrong to think, but because it seems to challenge other thoughts running concurrently through your mind. 

You finally sit down to collect your thoughts. You remember seeing images of police in riot gear during other protests and you wonder how it could be this easy to....and you don’t finish that thought. You look down at your hands once more and check your teen’s phone .. and you see a link to an article of a black man arrested for praying at the capitol several years ago. You skim through the article.  Yes, you notice he’s black, but you tell yourself it doesn’t matter, well, he matters, cuz all lives.. never mind... you’re getting silly minded, you tell yourself .. And for the life of you you can’t convince yourself of anything at the moment. You’re rattled. Shaken. You console yourself with a good thought...like, well, “I wish that black man good things. We’re better than that” you tell yourself. “I hope it turned out well for him”, you tell yourself. 

Your teen notices you are shaken. You hold up the phone and ask, “what’s this on your phone” more as a diversion than a serious question. “That’s the majority” is the answer. “The ...what? The majority to what?” Clearly your child got the words mixed up. You click the link and look again. Then... it sinks in. That’s the newly elected senator from Georgia, giving the senate edge to the other party. He was the one arrested for praying at the capitol a few years back. You’re both confused and a little angry. It’s a lot to process. But the only thought you can think of now is...what was that man praying for at the capitol? And you wondered if your God would dare answer his prayer. 

World Views as They Pertain to Me Problems, You Problems and We Problems

(and a distinction between Free Will and Freedom...might as well throw in Free Market, Capitalism and Compassion)

I used to be a big believer in developing a world view and sticking to it without wavering. I’m probably more relaxed in my stance now, but not without contemplation. I guess a bit of a turn off first occurred when I noticed how self centered my world view could be, as it pertained to me and pretty much only others that held similar beliefs. Now I’m more inclined to embrace a world view that works for all of us, or at least more of us. There seems to be so much polarity now and in my mind it’s a battle between opposing world views. Yet, here we are..we the people. United. One nation. I’m not even talking about global issues. Just getting along on the national level...with our so called “world” view differences. But I digress. 

I’ve been turned off recently by a certain individual and a certain institution that describes world view issues in terms of me problems and you problems. Now, the guy is intelligent and articulate, but I think he paints a very narrow and non comprehensive picture. Regardless of his intelligence and articulation, I don’t subscribe to his version of a world view. Yes, it’s good to know my responsibility level in issues. What’s my issue vs what’s your issue. But figuring out what I had to do with creating your problem is key. 

For instance, if I pollute a water supply, that’s a me problem, you problem and we problem. However, if I get my water somewhere else, leaving you with contaminated water...while telling you it’s no longer a me problem but now a you problem, we’ll, that’s callous and immoral. 

We are very hesitant to embrace we problems. If I take care of me, by nature I’m not as inclined to help others...not as much, anyway. However, while I believe in personal responsibility and accountability I also believe in helping others. It’s just not as easy to do. I have to change my mindset. And it’s very easy to look at an issue and claim I had nothing to do with creating that issue. Dirty water? Air pollution? You don’t see any factories in my backyard...not my problem. Though we are all consumers that contribute to the ecological footprint on some level. Everything we buy had to be produced somewhere, and honestly, I’m a consumer and inherently a contributor to the fallout of mass production. All consumers are part of a we problem that we all contributed to if not created. 

But this is really not intended to be about consumerism and the environment. That’s just an example. It might sound funny to insert the word “systemic” while talking about consumerism, but isn’t there validity to the totality in which all of us affect all of us when it comes to consumerism? No, we don’t all play equal parts. But we all play. And, we all pay the consequences. 

In other social issues we all play at least some part...unless you live on an island in total isolation. But it’s very difficult for us to own up to our part, or even buying into the We Problem concept. But to me it’s like traffic. In a traffic jam there can in some instances be a specific cause and fault assignment. At other times it’s a matter of too many of us on the road at the same time, not just one or two people’s fault. But we’re all stuck in traffic if we’re trying to get somewhere. While I’m impatient with the guy in front of me, it’s not solely his fault. The guy behind me is impatient with me. But it’s not solely my fault. And I’m not even worried about the guy behind me...until he honks his horn.. See, it’s not so much that we’re stuck in traffic. We are traffic. It’s a we problem, even when it’s created by a stalled vehicle miles in front. I didn’t cause that stall. Ok, I was the stall one time when the electrical components of my car just stopped working on the interstate in the middle of rush hour. So yes, that one time I was the guy the traffic reporter called out for the problem area on the evening commute. Ok, and one other time when someone changed lanes and totaled my car. Not my fault, but it became a me problem in a flash which turned into a we problem for all those other commuters. A longer term problem for me. And a different level problem for the driver that caused the accident. But we were all in traffic together..for an extended period of time. 

Such is life. We’re all in it together. We all contribute little or much to the mess of good or the mess of bad we find ourselves in. We all have a footprint literally and figuratively. Sometimes it’s a footprint of influence. If someone could scan an infra red type of image that captured our influence imprint...would our foot be kicking someone down? Or rushing to help someone up? Something I have to think about regularly. I know both types of images could be captured at various times in my life when it comes to influence. 

Ok, so what does any of this have to do with freedom? We value freedom in this country. I love freedom. I think that’s something we have in common as Americans. We love freedom. But honestly, I’m not always thrilled with how others express their free will. Free will conjures up some pretty disturbing events. Free will flies planes into buildings. Free will loots and vandalizes. Free will outside the parameters of freedoms established by our constitution and our established governing powers, well that’s pandemonium. No one is above that. One’s free will may act outside those parameters, but in a good and right justice system, that pandemonium doesn’t last. And the great thing about our country is that no one ..no one is above that. No one. And that’s the country I want to live in. 

I want a country where I’m free to live my world view. And others are free to live theirs. And we both adhere to the outlined freedoms established in our country. And the equity issue applies to all of us. No one above. No one below. That’s not communism. That’s not socialism. I want our system of government to work equally for all of us. That’s equal opportunity and equal justice for all. I want that for all. Who wouldn’t?

Free market? Yes. Capitalism? Yes. Do we need structure and regulation? Yes, if they don’t adhere to equal opportunity. But here’s something that cannot be regulated and enforced. Compassion. How do you measure compassion of an employer? How do you measure compassion of a government? How do you measure your own compassion as it relates to your fellow man? That’s a difficult call. We can’t force compassion. But I’m thinking we could use more of it. Can’t really regulate it. When it comes to giving compassion on an individual level we can give it grudgingly or willingly. I get to make that choice. That’s a me problem. And I get to exercise my free will in that determination. 

Forgiving Your Former Self

I used to think people were crazy when I heard them say, “if I had it to do over again, I’d do everything exactly the same way”. Given that option today, I’d at least have a long pause to think about it. But you know what? I’m good with where I’m at now on every level. No, I’m not saying things are perfect, but I’m at peace with things ...for the most part. I’ve come to grips with my former self, including decisions made earlier in life, and consequences that followed.

Sure, I still have plenty of flaws. I still get irritated. And with today’s uncertainties, who isn’t irritated from time to time? But the big picture? I’m at peace with my big picture, flaws and all. 

No, this is not a proclamation of the right way to live life. I don’t have a recommended path that everyone should follow. I’m not writing a book on how to live life. My path was bumpy and maybe not even a path at times. And I’m certainly not at a final destination. I’m still trekking. But my trekking is at least somewhat more peaceful because I honestly believe I’ve made peace to some extent with my past...with all its bumps, bruises, poor choices, and maybe occasionally some good ones. 

Really...can anyone claim to be where they are because they always made the right choices at every key moment in life? I’m not sure I’d trust anyone making that claim. I certainly wouldn’t be able to identify with them. 

If life is a journey with difficult passages, I’d want to walk next to someone who understands the bumps. Someone with scraped knees. Maybe a finger with a swollen knuckle that prevents it from being straight. Maybe a pause in their attempt to stand straight after a rest. Maybe a hitch in their giddy up. But after they get upright, they extend that hand to help others get up and back on their path. 

Remember, all scars have stories behind them, big or small. And those stories make more sense when exchanged during a journey. Even if the journey is only for a small stretch of the entire path. 

No, my path hasn’t been the straight and narrow. And nobody knows exactly the course I’ve taken. I’ve surely forgotten parts of it myself. But I’m not there anymore. I’m here now. For a while. What’s behind is either learned from or forgotten. But it’s ground I’ve covered to get here. And I’m moving on, because I’m not done yet. Moving on with a slight pause in my giddy up...a finger that doesn’t quite work right..a slight tilt to my posture..a need to rest every so often...but still moving down a path. A path not suited for the younger me. But a path suited for a well seasoned sojourner. I’ve lived my whole life to be where I am now. So, here I am. 

And if I had to do it all over again... I’m still not saying how I’d answer that question. But I’m glad to be where I am today. How ‘bout you?

All You Need Is Love

I remember that song/lyric being the source of many discussions by people mostly pointing out how wrong it was...and the long haired “hippies” singing it. Being the age I am, I first heard that song when I was a lad, and I liked it...because love sounded like a good thing to have. What kid wouldn’t gravitate towards that. But I was soon indoctrinated with the idea that truth was supreme. I was told that love without truth was only based on some emotional feeling, and not really love. Not the lasting kind, anyway. 

Well, I never really got into too many of those discussions. I was pretty much on the receiving end of them, from professors, pastors and Sunday School teachers. But I also remembered other phrases I had heard; “...the greatest of these is love”, or other verses and even chapters of the Bible filled with concepts of love never failing, speaking the truth ..in love, and words not backed by love being compared to indiscernible noise. Even the greatest commandment centered around love for God and love for others. 

As a youngster I really didn’t question too much though, not outwardly. And that trend continued throughout much of my formal education. I had “come to Jesus” basically in a gun to the head kind of way. You know, believe or be damned...or else. Sure, the love concept was sprinkled in, kind of after the fact. But in my religious circles, truth reigned supreme. Love..I never really understood it. And I think I was not alone, or maybe I’d have heard a lot more about it. 

I remember questioning the love factor, at least in my mind. But any time it came up the same message seemed to win out...if you had to pick one...truth or love...pick truth. You can’t be wrong if you’re right, kind of thing. 

Well, I don’t like having to pick between those two. And I won’t pick between those two. I’m an “I want it all” kind of guy. But, I’m leaning towards love, since “the greatest of these is love”. But I’ll claim it’s just a leaning at this point. I still want both truth and love. And I still plan to pursue both. 

So, other things I’ve observed over the years is that some that claim to hold up “the” truth get very annoyed when someone else claims to speak in terms of “their” truth. “The truth” trumps “my truth” they teach, and things can get ugly in a hurry if anyone disagrees. Lots of discussion..sometimes nastiness, name calling, maybe even hatefulness...all in the name of proclaiming truth. The only thing that seems to be missing in these discussions...is love. 

Now, I’ve been around enough to know that there are countless groups claiming to be protectors of “the” truth, and they’re all different. But they don’t speak for me. I have to figure out what truth looks like for myself. Sure, I can get input from others. I’d be a fool not to. But I’d also be a fool to blindly follow someone else’s version of “the” truth, because, simply put, it might just be “their” truth.

Yes, I’ll bow my knee to divine truth. But how that plays out in my mind, honestly, is a work in progress, and really nobody else’s business. I have to grow and seek and struggle and mature, and even change my mind once in a while. Sometimes I’m the one that gets most in the way of my own progress of learning truth. 

For instance, when I hold on to a perceived truth, and am unwilling to grow, well... I stagnate. That’s not growth or maturity. 

Or, if I have a concept down pretty well in terms of truthfulness (well contemplated and balanced, based on study and experience of my own and others), but I am lacking in the love department, guess what...I’m just noise when I speak it. And that noise sometimes has a tendency to just get louder and louder ...and even destructive at times. See, truth without love tends to tear down, not build up. Truth without love doesn’t unite. It creates divisions and even villains and the attempts to tear them down in the name of righteous indignation...to further one’s own cause.

Well, without love that too is noise. And destructive. Plain and simple. 

See, there are times when I don’t even care who is “right” when love is nowhere near part of the discussion. We’ve probably all seen situations like this played out, sadly. I’m not saying truth doesn’t matter. It does. But truth without love, when it turns into a weapon to destroy someone else..is not really truth anymore. Not in its purest form. That kind of loveless truth doesn’t set anyone free. 

If you think you have a firm grip on truth, great, make sure you have the love. And if in your truthfulness others think you’re a jerk...well, they may be wrong... or, maybe all you need is love. Maybe that’s the missing component. Just add love to your truth. Maybe that’s all you need. 

He Didn’t Need No Stinkin’ Handrail

It’s not that he didn’t ever use hand rails. But I best remember the times he didn’t. Oh man, I’d be nervous trying to position myself just so...just in case I needed to help brace him for a fall. Joe didn’t care though...he was going to go where he was going to go ...regardless of how I positioned myself. And he did. Countless times, much to my chagrin. 

Moebius syndrome is a rare neurological condition that accompanied Joe since birth. His case affected more than his facial muscles and nerves. Joe’s feet were also affected...resulting in what appeared to onlookers as a difficulty to safely stay upright. But for the life of me...I can’t say it hindered him significantly. Well, I mean, it had to hinder him though, right? Right?? 

However, his work history is robust. He was married to his bride for 56 years. They produced the most beautiful daughter imaginable. He was living out his retirement years active in his church. I mean...am I missing what was missing?? Because I’m not really coming up with anything. In a very real sense, he had it all. A man of abundant fruit. 

I wonder if he kinda felt free racing in front of protective arms trying to prevent potential falls. It must have been a lifelong conundrum.  I was fairly late to the scene, only within the last several years, so of course I felt a sense of protective urgency whenever I was around him. But I now wonder how much Joe really needed it. Oh, sure...I’ve seen him fall. I can’t remember how many times. Most times he got up quickly. No fuss. Other times he needed help. Again..no fuss from him. He likely tired of any fuss anyone offered. Rolled right off him, best I can tell. And for the time I knew him, I never saw him with a handicapped license plate.

I remember asking Doris how she and Joe met. She paused, while the twinkle in her eye glimmered a bit. She said...”it was in school. He was called Joe the Trouble Maker”. At first I couldn’t believe her. But that was one of the first times I met with them...and I didn’t know any better. After chasing after him trying to protect him a few times, I found Doris’ story much easier to believe. 

You see, in Joe’s world...handrails weren’t for him...they were for me, and others, so we would somehow feel better, I guess. But honestly, I think he lived his life just fine without them. He certainly won’t need handrails in the next life. And I’m guessing he probably won’t need wings either. 

I love you Joe, and I miss you already.