Headed North or South?

7The three birds flew through the cloudy skies of northern California due north on that brisk January morning.  The three friends; a Crow, a Pigeon and a Blue Jay, would have made a strange picture had anyone with a camera and telephoto lens had the mind to snap a shot.  Much higher in altitude, hundreds of Canadian Geese flew in perfect V formation in exactly the opposite direction.

“Hey,” squawked the crow, “there is another group of Canadians flying the wrong way. Why do you suppose they are so confused?”  He tried to point upwards with his right wing, but in doing so banked quickly to the left ramming the pigeon.

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Christmas Explained to a Five Year Old

IMG_0716“Papa, can you tell me about Christmas?” asked the five-year-old granddaughter of the man whose knee she was perched upon at that moment.

“Sure honey, what do you want to know?” was the confident reply of Papa.

“Well first, what’s the difference between Santa and Jesus?  And do Mary and Joseph live at the North Pole? And, at Sunday School we learned about the three Wise Men, but at school we sang about Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.  Was Rudolph at the manger with the Wise Men,” were the initial round of questions blurted out by Katie, Papa’s granddaughter.  “It’s all getting jumbled up in here,” said Katie pointing to her head.

“Well we don’t want things getting confused up there, now do we,” said Papa.  “You could end up like Uncle Fred, but that’s a whole different story.”

Papa settled into the recliner and snuggled Katie close in.  There was a lot of explaining to do, as Rickey often told Lucy.  “First you asked about Christmas, so let me tell you about that.  Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus; the son of God.  That is the main reason for all the decorations, and the lights, and the funny blow up snowmen at your Daddy’s house.  We have a party on your birthday right?”

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Love Is:

flowerMary shuffled with a limp while carrying the dirty dishes from the dining table to the kitchen.  She tried to hide the fact that something was wrong from Jim, her husband of 42 years, and even though his back was to her as she walked, he knew instantly something was amiss.

“Is your hip hurting again honey,” asked Jim?  He had turned to see her final two steps as she reached the kitchen sink; she was clearly favoring her left side.  “Hon, how bad is it?”

“It’s okay Jim, just a little stiff from the arthritis. I’ll be fine; go read your paper and rest,” Mary replied with just a little white lie.  Her hip and knee were on fire it seemed.

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Those Things We Can Do; We Must Do

DSC_0606America ought to be a place where the treatment of all people equally and with fairness as one of our highest goals.  Our country is founded on that basic belief. We must fight for an equal opportunity for any individual to achieve their own goal.  But we cannot and should not provide for, nor promise an equal outcome for all Americans.  Every person has the right to dream their own dream and choose their own horizon.  The height of the sky is an individual’s choice; reaching their unique horizon ought to be the principal result of an individual’s effort and not of their circumstance, nor as a gift from the government.

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Milestones

milestonesWhat was the last major milestone experience in your life and when did it happen?  A milestone is a significant event that happens to you, or a loved one, which forever changes your view on life, and can even reset your personal priorities. It can be good or bad, inevitable or sudden, but a milestone creates a permanent change in you.

Marrying Lea thirty-four years ago was my most significant milestone event, and it was inevitable.  God put us together and we never looked back.  Because of the first milestone I was able to have three more; the births of my children.  These four events didn’t just change me and my view of life; they made me, because I would have lived an incomplete existence if not for them.  There are other milestones of course: I quit smoking at age 21, one of the best decisions I have ever made. When I was 50, I returned to school to obtain an MBA, which has become a path altering event. Of course, when I stopped hiding from God, and let him find me in my early twenties, I crossed a milestone that has had eternal consequences for me and my family.

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Until the Ink is Dry

pen paperImagine the beginning of your life as a book without any words; blank pages beautifully bound in precious leather but absent any substance. Your life and mine is an unwritten story anxious to tell its tale. Now imagine a pen next to the book. The ink in the pen will create the lyrics of your life: love, joy pain, excitement, intrigue, and many thousands more.  Each page represents one day; God chooses the number of pages, only He knows the first day and the last. We create the experiences that fill the pages, deciding for ourselves the volume of life that each day will hold. So then, it is a partnership between ourself and God that creates the quality and fullness of the life we live, and that partnership is more evenly weighed than you may think.  

Jay, my brother-in-law, died this month.  It has been a time of emotional trauma as we navigate through unknown and unwanted waters.  Yet we somehow have made it past (sometimes reluctantly and always bruised) each hour of every day.  And we will survive the days to come, battered and tired beyond our human ability to comprehend, but survive we must, and we will.  

During this period, while writing an obituary for Jay and listening to the many entertainingly emotional stories arising from the pulpit and barstool, it is abundantly obvious to me that Jay’s book contained too few pages. His novel should have been Tolstoyick in nature, with pages of fine print numbered in the hundreds of thousands.  Still I believe the time of the last page was set by God for a reason I cannot comprehend, so I reluctantly choose not to question His contribution to the partnership.  This however, I know to be true; on the last day there was not a single drop of ink left in Jay’s pen.  He had filled each line on every page with life.  Richly laughing and loving through each chapter; every paragraph shouting for friends and family, Jay boldly placed all others in line before himself.

The adversity named diabetes struck him in the seventh chapter like the iceberg to the Titanic.  This time though, there was no shipwreck as Jay cast the berg aside like a melting snow-cone on a hot summer day.  Hard working and equally hard in play, Jay scribbled and printed in his book with an energy that was obvious and envied.  If the direction for his next adventure were unclear, Jay kept writing, knowing that every page would eventually be turned.  Near his end the pages turned slower, but that only gave Jay more time to spend filling the lines with laughter and hope.  His contribution to the partnership with God was at the highest level possible, making his book a timeless best seller.  Now, their partnership has become a sole proprietorship; the two merging into one, living on in endless fun and games.

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What does your book like?  How many pages are blank, or only contain a few words?  How often do our pages speak of work and responsibility, of belongings and not of family or friends?  The ink is ours alone to use, so why do we let so many other people and “things” dictate what we write?  How many paragraphs begin and end with God? 

 Is it time to for all of us to seize our pen and write our own story!

The death of Jay has made me test my priorities and my values.  I have not used all of my vacation time for any year of the last ten, but I have more miles on Southwest and points at Hilton than most people you will meet.  Over 400 friends and family members attended the two memorial services held in Jay’s honor, and although he had only been retired for three years, no one spoke what he had accomplished at work; we spoke of friendship, commitment, and love.  

I am not questioning the need for a career; I question its priority in our book.  I don’t question the need for serious thought; I encourage the need for laughter.  I’m also not advocating only engaging in BIG adventures (vacations, travel), but also the important little things; such as attending kids sporting events, family game nights and regular dates with your spouse.  I’m suggesting less of the doldrums and more excitement; I am proposing a reassessment of priorities to whom, and away from what, from sometime to now!

I am changing my vocabulary to phrases that say; yes, I’ll try that, or sure let’s go, and I’m coming home now.  I don’t know the number of pages left in my book, but I think there is a lot of ink left in the pen.  I intend to use every drop, just like Jay.  

Four Strategies to Survive Holiday and Work Stress

definition_of_stressWe are over half way through the holiday season.  Thanksgiving and Christmas have passed; but football playoffs, the Superbowl, and New Year’s Eve and Day are waiting to pounce on us like Mardi Gras on an unsuspecting tourist.  The stress of having to watch all the bowl games, NFL playoffs, go to the many celebrations, and eat and drink beyond sanity is too much to bear for some.  Adding salt to a wound, many of our employers expect us to function at work as if nothing else was happening outside the grey walls of industrial servitude.  What are we to do?  Give up; stay inside and watch reruns? Buy a gross of antacids and hope for the best? No! Giving up is not in our DNA and hope is not a plan (unless you are in the Federal Government).  I have tested four strategies which will help you to survive the holiday season and escape to the doldrums of January physically unscathed and mentally neutral. 

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A Legacy Worth Remembering

fountain-pen-on-paperHave you noticed that the single most important driving force in some people’s life is to leave a legacy of “amazing” accomplishments for future generations to acknowledge or debate?  The need for recognition of a life well lived is not detrimental, it is, given the human need for acceptance and love, highly understandable.  However, if the preoccupation with shaping the future opinion of people whom you have never met overwhelms the responsibility of caring for those whom you should love today, then a review of your priorities is in order.

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Other Places; Other Times

img_9008-old-leather-book-with-brass-clasps-q90-1409x877Gorda entered the Room of Past Knowledge from the south side of the complex, where the morning sun shone the brightest of the day. It was hot, passing 140 degrees as he turned the key to the massive iron and wooden door.  He moved through the threshold of gold, iron and cheesewood, meant to keep evil spirits from entering this room, into a much cooler, very ancient place.  Gorda wasn’t sure if evil spirits existed, or if their reported existence was a way for the old chemist to keep the townspeople afraid and behaved. He did know that evil was real; he had fought against it for decades, so he allowed the use of rare Cheesewood for a door frame. Besides, evil, in spirit or not, could not be allowed into this room. 

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Take The Next Turn

road-trip1The term “Road Trip” immediately injects a vision of excitement and fun into an undertaking that often morphs into a mundane act of getting from here to there.  When driving, we usually focus on where we were or where we are going.  In the morning while driving to work we think about the challenges of today or about the family we left at home.  When driving to Disneyland, we focus on Mickey Mouse and the Matterhorn; we are concerned with the destination (as we should be), the method to get there is generally unimportant.  Although a road trip must have a starting and ending point (often the same place), the reason we get excited is because of the journey; it is the “getting to” part, not the here or there that produces a broad smile, and unleashes our inner world-explorer self.  A road trip is about having fun with where we are at that moment in time, and less concerned about where we have been and where we will be.  Often on a road trip there is not an established timetable, or schedule; you float from place to place absent the worry of being late.  

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