The Rogue Wave

Sometimes, being swept off your feet is not at all that romantic.  Consider walking into the ocean.  The warm grains of sand wrap around your feet and toes, giving way just enough as you walk to build a small hole that tries to hold on with every step. The sand nearer the ocean is damp and cool from the remnants of waves that retreated only minutes past.  Gathering your courage you press onward until that first taste of ocean water touches your toe.  It is cold, and you stop walking – jerking your foot backwards, but only for a moment.  Before you realize it, the waves are slapping against your knees and an occasional drop hits your chest. 

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A Mosquito in the Back Yard

Have you ever wondered what it might feel like to be a mosquito? Probably not, and if you have perhaps you should seek immediate psychiatric help. For the moment though, we’ll pretend its okay to consider becoming a small, annoying pest. The good news about a mosquito is that they belong to a very large family. Cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers and sisters are in abundance, although they come and go rather quickly. Your family name is Culcidae, and there are 3,500 different species in your family. We all know people who can’t go anywhere without meeting a friend (and it’s annoying); mosquitoes are like that.

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Love Happens in the Moments Between Dreams

My bride shifted her leg, just a little, but enough so that my foot no longer touched hers.  That was enough to bring me from a deep slumber into a semi-conscious state where dreams appear real, and reality flickers like a candle on a dark night.  We were spooning, cuddled together under clean sheets and a down comforter, perfectly matched as two spoons in drawer.  She was warm, radiating a soft fire that kept the winter chill from invading our bed.  She says that I am like a heater, always good to keep the bed warm, but it is she who brings warmth.  My knees touch the inside of her thighs, and my left hand rests gently on her hip.  I feel her body rise with every breath, and I hear the soft melody of air caressing her lips.  But my foot is no longer in contact with hers and that causes a ripple in my happiness, so without my asking or prompting, my left foot moves the two inches needed to find her.  And then, having accomplished its goal my foot can be at peace again.  

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In The Desert

Even though I wore denim pants, the sharp grains of sand bit through to my knees like so many small razors, so that the intense heat of the desert floor was able to freely burn my skin in a hundred tiny sparks.  I crawled with my toes lifted off the sand as best I could, because the heat was so intense in the midafternoon they burned with only a momentary touch.  My calves cramped almost hourly, forcing me to stretch and then I touched the desert – inflicting another burn atop a previous wound.  My hands were not so lucky, yet in a way they were fortunate.  One hand was always in contact with the sand, so they burned red; but it didn’t take long for my palms to callus and scar, so I couldn’t feel the destruction happening, I just knew that it was. 

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The Brake Lights in Front of You

When driving on the freeway in heavy traffic and something happens ahead of your car, the tail lights of cars far up the freeway light up, warning you of problems down the road.  It can look like the lights on an airplane landing strip, each red light sequencing its turn to glow immediately after the next one in front, so that fifty lights covering a mile can rush toward your car in just seconds.  It can be an immediate warning system, if one chooses to see it.  Flashing brake lights that far in advance of a problem, can save your life, unless you are so preoccupied by “other stuff” you don’t heed the warning.  Unless you are too busy to see the warning signs; then a big crash may be in your near future.

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People Are Just People

The lady seated to my left is quietly sleeping, now that the turbulence has ended and the plane is smoothly making its way across Texas. Her neatly groomed white hair frames a lightly tanned face, with lips that support a broad smile, and wrinkles that testify to memories of a life fully lived. She boasts those fine lines at the corners of her mouth that come from smiling more often than frowning.  I had the pleasure of speaking to her while she was being helped onto a wheelchair while boarding.   She didn’t understand English and it didn’t matter, because she said thanks with a sincere smile and nod when I offered help. I did not need a linguist to interpret her meaning.

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The Vast Middle Ground

The bell shaped curve, that great equalizer of the school classroom, is meant to explain how a population of test scores will eventually unfold itself neatly along a predetermine path, thus displaying the test results into upper, lower, and average positions. In my eighth grade English class, I prayed that everyone else was as confused and ill-prepared as I, so the entire curve would be adjusted downward, giving me a fighting chance for a graded-on-the-curve C. But the concept of a predictable outcome of highs, mediums and lows, is not just used in school; cars are labeled as luxury, mid class, and economy, you can fly in first class, coach, or in lower fare seats. The bell shaped curve is also used to described our life (yours and mine), in terms of its quality when compared to everyone else. Are we middle class, upper class, or poor? Those labels are thrown at us by politicians, reporters, educators; the need for others to categorize our life into a single box is nearly fanatical in its scope.

Perhaps worse is when we place our ability to be happy (content, or joyful) on a human bell shaped curve, relegating the amount of time we can spend being at the apex of life to 10-15 %, and when we are ‘just average’ to 70% of life’s timeline. I don’t believe people knowingly choose a mid-level happiness state for the bulk of their life, I think it just happens. I think we self-impose an expectation that being in a constant state of over-the-top exuberant happiness is wrong – only weird or naive people think like that. We tend to accept that good is good enough, and great is rare.

Ask someone the question, “How are you?”  The overwhelming response is, “Good.” You will get a few greats, and a few that are  ousy, but good will dominate. I submit that being great is a much more natural state that being good, and that we can, and should, redefine the curve to include more great, and less good and lousy. I believe that the plan was always for greatness, and we have deviated from where we can be.

Here are a few ways to move the bar towards great:

  • Redefine the driving force that creates your personal happiness (or joy) away from external sources to internal ones. Try not to rely on a person, place or event to make you happy. Choose to be happy all on your own.
  • Use your own definition for happiness, not that of someone else. It’s your life, you get to define it.
  • If happiness and joy are elusive, try doing something great for someone else, and something great for yourself too. Feeling great spreads from person to person like butter on warm bread.

I’m not proposing an arrogant version of great or a prideful view of happy. Just the opposite, I am promoting a humble and sincere version of being at the top, where there is room for everyone.

I find joy in my faith, where I am told that I am special, I am one of a kind and I am loved beyond my capacity to comprehend. There is nothing wrong with feeling good, but there is something very right about being great.

Thanks for reading.

More and Better

As the year ends and we transition to another, it is commonplace to reflect on what we have done, and what we have left undone. Too often though, reflection on the past morphs into a self-inflicted mental beating, centered on our perceived shortcomings.  We tend to focus on the bad, and forget about the good we have done.   The discussion becomes a stream of, “I didn’t…”

I didn’t lose ten pounds.

I didn’t get that promotion.

I didn’t find full time work.

I didn’t save, or invest as I had planned.

I didn’t, I didn’t, I didn’t……

A little negativity can erase a lot of greatness, if we let it.  Our pastor spoke about this phenomenon in an excellent sermon, and I’m sharing just two if his thoughts, but they are very important.  When the “I didn’t” takes over, remember:

You are better than you think you are

You matter more than you think you do 

Why?  Because it is true, and because God said so.  We are not the center of the universe, God is.  But, sometimes we are much closer to the center than we think.

Happy New Year!

Thanks for reading.

STARTING NEXT WEEK, RATHER THAN SENDING THE ENTIRE MESSAGE IN AN EMAIL, I WILL BE SENDING A LINK BACK TO MY WEBSITE WHERE YOU CAN READ IT.  I PROMISE IT WILL BE EASY AND FAST.  – Michael

It Is Okay

In the shopping mall, or in the parking lot adjacent to the mall, as we approach Christmas Day the intensity increases in almost  geometric proportions.  In other words, it can get pretty nasty out there.  Not with everyone, and not to astronomic levels, but on average the anxiety index goes up as we near the big day.  And, if you are one who believes that welcoming the New Year is the second most important day of the year, then the stress will last until sometime in January.  There are moments, perhaps days, when the stress dissipates, allowing joy to sneak past the barriers of hurry and rush, bringing forth that smile for which we all search.  Why are all of us so determined to self-inflict stress, drama, anxiety, and heartache into the holiday season?  Could it be our unnatural, yet all-encompassing need for perfection?  Everything needs to be just right. The need for “right” usually isn’t even for us; it not an “about me” complex that rules the emotional landmines cluttering the shopping, cooking, and decorating scheduled for today.  No, we need everything to be just right for everyone else.  It is the giving part of our celebration which provides such amazing joy and unprecedented weariness in the same instant; it’s the Yin and Yang of Christmas.  I say it is time to keep the Ying (amazing joy) and throw out the Yang.  I am promoting the idea that not being perfect is okay.  Imperfection is the pavement on the road to happiness.

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The Bright Light

A favorite tradition during the Christmas season is the placement of lights on your yard and home. Christmas lights are like fireworks that don’t burn out and fall from the sky, but stay bright, as long and often as you wish. Glowing colored lights of all shapes and colors: red, yellow, green, and now even purple, in shapes of stars, balls, icicles, and angels. Trees and bushes are engulfed by multicolored webs, transforming dormant green and brown plants into glowing beacons of electric wizardry. Suddenly, a fog filled and chilly evening has become a scene of Muppets playing in the neighbor’s yard, Charlie Brown and his gang playing baseball on the roof, Santa and his gift filled sleigh rocket to a chimney from a nearby light pole. Scenes of white glowing deer amongst (You guessed it), white glowing circular trees surround the Magnolia Tree in the front yard, and air filled Polar Bears standing along an Igloo – magically rise for the evening show, only to deflate at midnight. Occasionally, a scene of wise men, a man and woman, and a baby find their way onto a yard to tell a different story of light.

Lighting our homes in celebration of Christmas is a beautiful tradition that I hope lives forever. Of course it should, since the tradition has already survived for over two thousand years. The first year there was only one light, but it was fantastically bright, and thought it could be seen by millions, was only noticed by three. It is a light that has never gone out since, and never will.

 

 

 Have a very Bright and Merry Christmas.