Second Thoughts

DRINKING "COWBOY COFFEE" AFTER THE STORM

Ever since Irene swept through our area I've felt compelled to blog about it. I started to write something I was calling "A Dark and Stormy Night" (very original, I thought), but then I abandoned it. I guess what's going on for me is that, even though I was inconvenienced for a week by the loss of power and thereby the loss of internet, water, land line telephone and TV (TV not a big deal), I still have my family, friends, the house I love and live in, my health, and almost everything, with a couple of exceptions, I had before she stormed her way through.

I think my initial reaction was to be a bit dramatic--maybe even melodramatic--as if I had gone through some gigantic ordeal. As it turns out, however, what about the people in Vermont who lost a whole town? What about the people down in Texas who are losing homes and treasured possessions in an incredible fire that's raging like Hell itself? What about the people anywhere on this planet who are suffering some agonizing trauma having lost someone near and dear to them? What about those who don't know where their next meal is coming from? Well, you get the idea.

Sorry for sounding so preachy. It's not the point of this blog to just give me another pulpit. I guess overall though, for myself, I can't help thinking that the very least I can do is to take a couple of deep cleansing breaths and appreciate my good fortune. Then to take the time to remember those I just mentioned in my thoughts and prayers, and live a joyful, thankful life
as if life were a precious gift because it is. And so is yours.

The experts of your life...

Today I was thinking about how many experts there are in the world for just about any topic you can imagine. Of course, for me I'm particularly interested in the gurus of spiritual living. Most of them are revealing "secrets," as if somehow a clandestine force has been keeping these secrets away from the average person for centuries. They sell books and CD's on the latest seven steps, nine steps, 19 steps, 21 steps to a better you or a better life or to achieving prosperity or peace or changing your life from bewilderment to happiness.

And just for the record, I like a lot of those for the suggestions they make that are easily overlooked. For instance, common sense things that we all need to be reminded of: "Don't concentrate on the problem; put your energy into the solution;" "If you want to achieve anything in life, have a clear picture of what it is you want;" and, "Don't quit too soon." There are tons more.

They are reminders, really. We all know that stuff, but we just don't remember to apply them. The point is that they are not "secrets." No one has hidden them from us. No one is against our having a happy life. There isn't some evil force at work that patrols the perimeters of our lives so that we won't wander aimlessly into a pasture of contentment.

One of our problems is that we expect life to be perfect. Society has taught us that. A student has no validity unless he or she gets all A's and B's. No one has lived a successful life unless they are very rich or head of a large corporation or the most beautiful physical representation of a human being or...or...well, you get the idea. So we turn to the experts who are going to give us the secret to being whatever it is that we think we should be.

I also want to be clear about the fact that there are thousands of books that give guidance in spectacular ways about very complex life issues. I am not, by any means, against any of those. I love reading books that offer new insights into my perception of life or some situation therein. Many have radically changed my life for the better. However, what bothers me most probably has more to do with semantics than anything. The word "secret" is my personal hangup. It makes it seem far too mystical, available to only a privileged few.

I think (and of course this is my own opinion), you and I are the experts of our own lives, but no one has ever told us that. Success and happiness to me is accepting the fact that life has it's ups and downs, but we work to make it as good as we can. We search ourselves and discover what is our greatest gift to make the world a better place: an ongoing ability to smile and comfort people; an artistic flare that adds beauty and wonder to life; a pragmatic skill that enables life to flow more easily and for people to live more comfortably; a passion for social causes that stirs the conscience of others to contribute; a presence that brings good and healing energy to a room or an individual. Again, each of us holds our own secret to life. It's found in loving ourselves, being ourselves, and trusting ourselves. That, I believe, is God's intention.

Who You Are

Who do you think you are? I've discovered that that question has a lot of answers depending on what mood you're in or a particular scenario you're describing. Of course, it can always be answered by listing the roles you play--mother, father, sister, brother; or boss, employee, owner; or friend, neighbor, acquaintance. You can think of some others.

Robert Fulghum of All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten fame (great little book if you haven't read it), said in another one of his books that one of the first question we ask one another when we're getting acquainted is What do you do? He says that he likes to answer it according to what he has been doing most recently. If he was cleaning house, he tells people that he is a janitor. He said something similar to a woman on a plane while he was flying to give a talk in a church on the west coast. Later, as he was speaking, he looked out in the audience and there she was. [It was on Fire When I Lay Down On It]

Anyway, the point is that it is a deeply personal question--Who do you think you are? I have an answer to suggest. It's actually going to be the topic of my sermon this week. I don't know if you've ever realized it or not, but each of us is the answer to someone's prayer...maybe a lot of peoples' prayers throughout our lifetime.

Sound a little outrageous? It's not. Sometimes unknowingly we give just the right answer to someone who has been in a time of confusion or we offer support when someone has been feeling alone or we are in just the right place at the right time to help somebody in an emergency. There are several situations where this applies. When things are operating with true synchronicity, we are each playing the perfect role, undefined by social labels.

Maybe what each of us should think about as we go about our daily lives is serving one another as if we might be the answer to their prayer that day.

"You Is Gettin' Learned"

It's 4:30 a.m. and my wife is just leaving for work. A few times a week she has to be at Whole Foods by 5 a.m. We have coffee together, and then off she goes. In our conversation this morning we were talking about Charlie--an elderly man of 95 or 96 who is a member of my congregation in Florence. He's an avid fisherman and is taking the time to teach me how to catch some trout because last year the only thing I caught was a chair (it was mine, by the way--it fell off the dock and into the water). Charlie's a great guy and very intelligent and active.

Commenting on the fact that he's coming up here tomorrow (the beginning of trout season) to take me fishing along the canal, Chris jokingly said, "You is gettin' learned." I want to be clear that that's not the way Charlie talks and she wasn't making fun of anybody, she was just reflecting with delight on his good natured insistence that it is actually possible to teach me the art of catching trout. His is a generation that believes in great possibilities since they have lived through some pretty difficult times. As generations have since been influenced by better times in some ways (although I don't want to go too far in that thought), some of us, myself included, have been less inclined to think along those lines.

Anyway, as one who desires to be more creative and able in certain areas of life, the fact that Charlie believes so readily that I can be taught a skill that I have never been very successful at is an inspiration in itself. I'm not saying that I can become a great fisherman or photographer or artist or writer, etc., but there are things I can actually learn to at least do better. And those things could enhance my life in some very meaningful ways. The fact that I'm semi-retired is an advantage, but even before retirement, the possibilities were still there. However, I would often dismiss the idea that I had any hidden abilities to any degree--that is to say, that I was teachable.

I don't think I'm alone in that. I believe it's a fairly common way of thinking. And yet, I'm excited about learning how to do something new and properly even though it seems completely unfathomable to me. Charlie's willing and kind spirit makes me realize that there are possibilities for enhancing my life that I have far too quickly dismissed as out of the question. So if any of you see me standing behind an easel with a pallet and brush in hand or at a craft show trying to sell my latest creation made out of pine cones and egg cartons, at least stop by and say "hi."

Chet Atkins, the great guitar virtuoso, once said: "Approach [your] guitar intelligently, and if there are limits, don't deny them. Work within your restrictions. Some things you can do better than others, some things you can't do as well. So accentuate the positive."

With that in mind, I can't wait to taste those fresh-caught trout tomorrow night!

Be here now...

It hardly seems possible to me, but I've been retired for almost two years! It's been an interesting transition going from full-time to part-time. Sometimes when I wake up, I think what do I have to do today? Of course, there is always plenty to do except that hardly anyone will notice, one way or the other.

When I was the pastor of the Cranbury United Methodist Church, I seldom took a formal day off during the week. I had set office hours from 9 till noon, and then most days, back again after lunch or out making calls. Many times I walked to the office, stopped by Teddy's restaurant and picked up coffee, and chatted with people throughout the morning as they came into the church for one reason or another. 25 years of that in Cranbury.

But now, the world is a different place for me. Chris gets two days a week off, and they're never the same, but because I mostly don't have any place in particular I have to be, we can arrange to spend those days together, whatever they are. The rest of the time is pretty much mine, except for my part-time obligations to the church in Florence.

The thing I wonder about is: How did I get here to this stage of my life? Retirement always seemed like a lifetime away. You know, when you're a kid and you and your friends would spin around in place until you got so dizzy that you just fell down? Well, no, that's not quite it. If you've ever been put under anesthesia for some reason, and then suddenly you're being waked up? Yeah, that's closer to it. It all seems so sudden, and that day that was so far off is suddenly your present tense. The difference, of course, is that under anesthesia you don't know anything about what went on while you were under, but I remember quite well so many of the events and circumstances of my Cranbury years. And still, the time went incredibly fast.

Sorry for the rambling nature of this, but I just wanted to say that in spite of how things seem in the passing of time, it's all really very fast, very fast indeed. If you're a parent, one moment you're holding an infant and changing diapers and reading bedtime stories and all the other things that parents do. Then the next thing you know, your kids are driving and are probably taller than you and have their own opinions about things (which is the way it's supposed to be, by the way.)

The Buddhists have a saying that simply goes: "Be here now." I've thought about that so many times..."be here now." The wisdom in that is invaluable! Be present in all times of your life--good and bad. Learn from the bad, celebrate the good. It's all life. John Lennon said, "Life is what is happening to you while you're making other plans."

I will say quite sincerely and honestly, thank you to all my family, friends, and acquaintances with whom I have been journeying along the way! It is the people of our lives, with whom we spend time and work and play together that makes being here now so rich and wonderful!

These are the times that try men's souls...

Someone once said that patience is a virtue and people have been quoting that ever since. Well, let me say this about that: patience is not only a virtue, it's also equivalent to a four-letter word: hard! I know that to be true for me anyway. Here's my story for those of you who don't know it already. If you have heard it, please feel free to ignore this post; but then again, you have the freedom to ignore any post I put out there, don't you?

On December 22, 2010, I purchased a car. Specifically, I purchased a 1999 Subaru Forester. I fell in love with it, so to speak, because it was just the right price, just the right size, just the right style for the likes of somebody like me. For all intents and purposes, I test drove it and I liked the way it felt on the road. Bingo! The perfect vehicle for a retired guy living in the country--space in the back for the dog, room for buying things at Home Depot, and all wheel drive for those difficult places in which I might otherwise get stuck such as mud or snow.

I got behind the wheel to drive it home and that's when the craziness began. First, as I was joyfully gliding along the road, all of a sudden the locks started going off and on automatically, along with my headlights flashing as if possessed by a vehicular spirit. So I discovered online that there was a way to adjust that system with a reset button. So that's what I did. All seemed well--I was happy again. But the spirit returned with vengeance to the extent that I was at one point locked in the car! (Whoa! Is this where I'll spend the rest of my days?) I did manage to convince the spirit of the locks to let me out, and the next day I took the car back. They said they'd get right on it--which meant by their timing, two to three days. In the meantime, it snowed a really big snow, and I was without my all wheel drive super car to get me off the farm.

When I got it back, they had done away with the alarm system in order to prevent future lock curses from entrapping me in the otherwise friendly surroundings of my old '99. Driving the road, I happily went to my church down in Florence, NJ. On the way home on I-95, I gazed down at the gauges only to see that my car was overheating. I immediately pulled off the road to let it cool down. About a half hour later, I completed my homeward journey and, once again, the next day, I drove up to the dealer's. They'd get right on it--which, of course, meant 3-5 days in this case. It snowed again, just as heftily as before. Once again, where's my all wheel drive perfect vehicle?

You're probably getting bored with the story by this time, so I'll shorten it by saying it overheated two more times, requiring towing on one occasion. Then, pulling out of my parking place at the church one Sunday, the wheel fell off--that's right--fell off. It got towed from Florence to Lambertville. Then when I got it back three days later, I took it to a mechanic that I had had work done by through the years in Cranbury. On the way, it overheated. After looking it over, the mechanic said, "This car needs a new engine." It got towed back to the dealers, where it has been since February 15.

I know that a lot of people would have taken some pretty severe legal action by then. First, the car didn't fall under the so-called Lemon Law. Second, no matter how foolish I appear to many proactive people, I like to pride myself (and there's the problem) as one who is very spiritual. I know, I know...there's a limit, right? Okay, I get it, but that's how I am in my nature. Of course, I'm not always sure whether I'm spiritual or if that's my justification for the way I am. Anyway, I'm supposed to be getting it back today, although I've not heard anything from them.

All I'm asking is that when the day comes that I leave this dimension of life, will you please vote for my sainthood? That will make the whole matter of patience not only a virtue, but purposeful.

Weekend Guest of the Canine Variety

So, last weekend Tim came up from D.C. to keep a promise he had made to his mom on her birthday in January. His promise: to make her a birthday dinner of her choice. Her choice: a New Orleans style meal. He fixed an elegant and delicious recipe of shrimp and grits. By the way, I benefited from that as well, as evidenced by one of the pictures on the side (embarrassing, to say the least).

Accompanying Tim was Wolfie--a rather large dog of German Shepherd and Huskie mix. I have to say though, he resembles the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood, if you ask me. But he's quite self-assured and gentle, in spite of the fact that he was rescued from an abusive situation where his owners even ran him over with the car. He and our Faye played and played and played. She's still tired. The picture in this post shows them playing a spontaneous game of tug-of-war.

Now here's your assignment: Look above Wolfie's head and see if you can see the orb (a circle of light). I'm going to get crazy on you now. An orb represents and is the presence of a spirit. (You still there?) We are familiar with them and have other photos with them in as well. And to answer a question you may be pondering--no, the camera lens was not dirty or wet or reflecting light from anything. You might find it interesting to check some of your own photos. You have to look carefully, but you might be surprised that there was the presence of one or more spirits hovering in your life when you least expected it.