"We sincerely apologize to 'Moonlight', 'La La Land', Warren Beatty, Faye Dunaway and Oscar viewers for the error that was made during the award announcement for Best Picture", the firm made in a statement. "The presenters had mistakenly been given the wrong category envelope and when discovered was immediately corrected. We are currently investigating how this could have happened, and deeply regret that this occurred." Price Waterhouse Coopers, the official accountant of the Oscars. L.A. Times
What could possibly be worse than Steve Harvey announcing during Miss Universe 2016 the runner-up as the winner of the contest? Could any mistake in such a public forum be any worse than that? Announcing the wrong Best Picture would be much worse.
By now you have seen or heard what happened. Warren Beatty opened the official envelope for Best Picture, "took a long look at it", according to his testimony, and handed it to Faye Dunaway who announced "The Oscar goes to 'La La Land." She didn't read it wrong. That's what the card said. Well, there is the matter that Emma Stone's name was on the card for Best Picture, but what would most people do in that situation? Would you in a split second question the accuracy of the information handed to you in front of hundreds of millions of viewers around the world? She announced 'La La Land' when the actual winner was 'Moonlight'. Fred Berger, 'La La Land's' producer, who was standing on stage as the apparent winner, then held up the correct card and stated that 'Moonlight' was the actual winner.
In my opinion there are three ways to deal with a mistake. 1. Own the mistake. Admit that you screwed up. 2. Make amends, if possible. 3.Learn from the mistake so that it doesn't happen again. 4.Move on. Price Waterhouse Cooper did these things; they said that they made a mistake. And who knows how they can possibly make amends. Calls will be made. Letters will be written. Attorneys will be talking. Heads will roll. I'm quite sure that they will learn from the mistake. This had never happened before and more than likely it will never happen again. It would have been bad enough if it had happened with the "Best Short Foreign Film" or "Best Sound Editing," but it happened with the crown jewel of the evening with Best Picture. Unthinkable.
Whereas, in their statement the accountants took ownership of the mistake, I think they could have said it better. And with your next mistake, I suggest that you do the same thing. They stated the mistake in 3rd person instead of 1st person. With first person you are telling your own story with "I" and "we". The writer is telling the story from his own point of view. 3rd person is like a camera recording events. The camera shows what happened, but is not personally involved with the story. They could have said, "We apologize for the error that we made" instead of "We apologize for the error that was made." They could have said, "We gave the presenters the wrong category envelope" instead of "The presenters had been given the wrong category envelope". This sounds like some mystery person made the mistake and gave them the wrong envelope.
There is one important thing to remember when dealing with a mistake. Make sure you made the mistake. Faye Dunaway was surely embarrassed by what happened and probably feels badly about it, but did she do anything wrong? Warren Beatty tried to cover for Dunaway, but was it his mistake? Does he owe anyone an apology? He just handed Dunaway the card that they handed to him. In my opinion the only mistake he made was owning a mistake in front of hundreds of millions of viewers that he didn't make.
Don't we do the same thing? We feel bad for hours or days about something we didn't do. Before we feel bad about it, we need to make sure it's ours to feel bad about. And even if it's our mistake, after we feel bad about it a little while we need to make amends, forget it and move on. Well, okay, even if we can't forget about it, we need to move on. It's not easy to do this, but it's necessary.
Not everyone feels bad about what happened last night. I would say that today Steve Harvey is the happiest man in the world. For over a year he has been the brunt of jokes on Late Night and around the world. He is no longer the owner of "the biggest goof ever made on international live television." Can you imagine what Late Night is going to do with this? But as big as the mistake was and as many people as it affected, next year there will be another Academy Awards. The "beautiful people" will dress up and walk the red carpet. Jokes will be made. Awards will be presented. The show will go on.
When I make a mistake, I ask myself two questions 1. "Will anyone die?" and 2. "Will I go to prison?" Since the answer to both questions is "no" I immediately feel somewhat better. But even though neither is the case, I still feel bad that I messed up. I feel bad that my mistake affected other people. At that point I own up to it, apologize as necessary, learn what I can and move on. Human beings make mistakes. I'm a human being. I make mistakes. You are a human being. You make mistakes.
And when we see such a colossal mistake on so large a stage by people who are much richer and much smarter than we are, if we're honest don't we feel a little bit better about ourselves? So now I can ask myself three questions, 1. "Will anyone die"? 2. "Will I go to prison?" and 3. "Is this worse than announcing the wrong Best Picture at the Academy Awards?" Druggists tell us that Tamiflu reduces symptoms by about twenty-four hours. This goof last night should reduce my symptom by several hours as well. Even if we don't learn from our own mistakes, someone else will.
Monday, February 27, 2017
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
A Reflection of Ourselves
"We cannot change anyone else; we can change only ourselves, and then usually only when the elements that are in need of reform have become conscious through their reflection in someone else." M. Esther Harding
I had to read this quote several times before I understood it. Well, until I began to understand it. How can I ever know for sure what Harding meant by what she said?
"We cannot change anyone else." Family Systems Theory has much to say about changing other people. First of all, it says that you cannot change a system that you are not in. Secondly, it says that you cannot change anyone's relationship with anyone else. The more you try to change it, the worse you're going to make it. Family Systems Theory says that if you want to help Jill's relationship with Joan, the best you can do is maintain a relationship with Jill and a relationship with Joan. And don't talk to Jill about Joan and don't talk to Joan about Jill. Talk to Jill about Jill and Joan about Joan. You get the idea.
"We can only change ourselves." No matter how much we want to change our spouse, our family, our neighborhood, our town, our state, our country, our world, we can't change any of it. All we can do is change ourselves. But as that change ripples outward, the world becomes a better place. Now our efforts to affect change are from a center of personal peace and power. We're not trying to make the world a better place so that we can become more comfortable. Since we are now more comfortable, the world is a better place. How do I know this? Zoom out ! Each of us is in the world.
"and then usually only when the elements that are in need of reform have become conscious through their reflection in someone else." This was the part of the quote that I had to read over and over. I think Harding could have said it better because "the elements" don't become "conscious"; I become conscious. Once I understood that it's me that becomes conscious, it made more sense.
To me she's saying that I can't see the parts of me that I need to change until I see them in someone else. Sometimes when I see things in other people that I don't like, I have to admit that I am the same way. I say and do the exact same things. So, if I don't like this in this other person, why do I tolerate it in myself? But, obviously, another way to look at this is "If I tolerate these things in myself, why can't I tolerate them in other people?"
But let's say that I decide that I can't tolerate something in the other person and, therefore I will no longer tolerate it in myself. Now what? Just because I recognize this part of myself that I do not particularly like doesn't mean I know how to change it. Maybe at this point I decide that I have no idea how to change it. That I can't change it. Then I can forgive it. When Jesus in His model prayer said, "And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us" I'm convinced that he meant "Help us to be as forgiving of our own faults as we are the faults of others." In other words "Let me be at least as kind to myself as I am to perfect strangers.".
"We cannot change anyone else." If M. Esther Harding had stopped writing with that, she had said about all she needed to say. The sooner we realize the truth of these words, the sooner we, and the people around us, will be in a better place. And isn't a better place where we all want to be? Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche in The Discovery of Basic Goodness said, "Unless we can discover the ground of goodness in our own lives, we cannot hope to improve the lives of others." I think Harding would add, "The only way to improve the lives of others is by improving your own life."
As my wife and I are driving away from a social occasion and begin to comment about it, one of us interrupts the other and says, "And what are they saying about us?' The next time the person you're talking to is annoying you, hold up a mirror to them and study the reflection. You may be surprised by who you see.
I had to read this quote several times before I understood it. Well, until I began to understand it. How can I ever know for sure what Harding meant by what she said?
"We cannot change anyone else." Family Systems Theory has much to say about changing other people. First of all, it says that you cannot change a system that you are not in. Secondly, it says that you cannot change anyone's relationship with anyone else. The more you try to change it, the worse you're going to make it. Family Systems Theory says that if you want to help Jill's relationship with Joan, the best you can do is maintain a relationship with Jill and a relationship with Joan. And don't talk to Jill about Joan and don't talk to Joan about Jill. Talk to Jill about Jill and Joan about Joan. You get the idea.
"We can only change ourselves." No matter how much we want to change our spouse, our family, our neighborhood, our town, our state, our country, our world, we can't change any of it. All we can do is change ourselves. But as that change ripples outward, the world becomes a better place. Now our efforts to affect change are from a center of personal peace and power. We're not trying to make the world a better place so that we can become more comfortable. Since we are now more comfortable, the world is a better place. How do I know this? Zoom out ! Each of us is in the world.
"and then usually only when the elements that are in need of reform have become conscious through their reflection in someone else." This was the part of the quote that I had to read over and over. I think Harding could have said it better because "the elements" don't become "conscious"; I become conscious. Once I understood that it's me that becomes conscious, it made more sense.
To me she's saying that I can't see the parts of me that I need to change until I see them in someone else. Sometimes when I see things in other people that I don't like, I have to admit that I am the same way. I say and do the exact same things. So, if I don't like this in this other person, why do I tolerate it in myself? But, obviously, another way to look at this is "If I tolerate these things in myself, why can't I tolerate them in other people?"
But let's say that I decide that I can't tolerate something in the other person and, therefore I will no longer tolerate it in myself. Now what? Just because I recognize this part of myself that I do not particularly like doesn't mean I know how to change it. Maybe at this point I decide that I have no idea how to change it. That I can't change it. Then I can forgive it. When Jesus in His model prayer said, "And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us" I'm convinced that he meant "Help us to be as forgiving of our own faults as we are the faults of others." In other words "Let me be at least as kind to myself as I am to perfect strangers.".
"We cannot change anyone else." If M. Esther Harding had stopped writing with that, she had said about all she needed to say. The sooner we realize the truth of these words, the sooner we, and the people around us, will be in a better place. And isn't a better place where we all want to be? Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche in The Discovery of Basic Goodness said, "Unless we can discover the ground of goodness in our own lives, we cannot hope to improve the lives of others." I think Harding would add, "The only way to improve the lives of others is by improving your own life."
As my wife and I are driving away from a social occasion and begin to comment about it, one of us interrupts the other and says, "And what are they saying about us?' The next time the person you're talking to is annoying you, hold up a mirror to them and study the reflection. You may be surprised by who you see.
Friday, February 17, 2017
Touched by Wonder
"Much of the suffering we face has the purpose of leading us back to wonder." Unknown
Many years ago someone told me something that she often told herself: "I will not should on myself today." My wife and I have adopted that idea as our very own. But we comment from time to time that there are, in fact, some things that we "should" do. If you think about it, whereas it is very healthy to not fill our days with unwanted obligations, our day may need to include things that are a necessary and helpful to ourselves and other people. Some "shoulds" are good things.
So in the spirit of things that you "should" do, there are three books that you "should" read. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard, Walden by Henry David Thoreau and A Touch of Wonder by Arthur Gordon. I have read them all more than once. The three books are similar in very many ways, but each one is unique. Each one describes the transcendent effects of solitude and wonder. Each author invites us to observe and participate in the wonder all around us wherever we are every day.
There's a catch though to "wherever we are every day." In these books the authors are in either an extremely beautiful place or a place of extreme solitude, a place of intentional solitude. It would be so much better to read none of these books, go to a beautiful place and experience that place like these three authors do. If that is not possible in the near future, reading one of these books can be the next best thing. You can experience these places vicariously.
"Suffering" and the relief from suffering is a major theme of Buddhism. The word "suffering" in our experience usually suggests some sort of horrible physical situation. In Buddhism "suffering" is a condition that most of us deal with daily. Someone cuts you off in traffic, you salute them with a gesture, you sound your horn, you feel anger and frustration. This is "suffering". You left your sick child with a friend so that you could come to work. You feel badly that you can't be with her. You feel like a horrible mother. This is "suffering". You think about something you said to a friend that you wish you hadn't said. You struggle with whether or not to apologize or just let it go and hope for the best. This is really about all you can think about. This is "suffering." You reach for your phone in the console of your car and it's not there. You pull over and frantically search your purse and your car and it's not there. You have no idea where you left it. You experience a feeling of panic. This is "suffering".
"Suffering", according to Buddhist teaching, is the flip side of "attachment". We attach ourselves to things, thoughts and events and we "suffer". I am convinced that this type of daily, ordinary "suffering" is at the root of substance abuse. In the case of prescription drug abuse, people try to alleviate emotional pain with drugs that are intended for physical pain. Since the drugs are not designed to alleviate emotional pain, the person uses more and more of the substance for immediate relief but no lasting benefit. Now the person still has the pain and s/he is addicted to drugs. This lethal cycle of cause and effect becomes a death spiral.
The dictionary defines "wonder" as "surprise mingled with admiration caused by something beautiful and unexpected." Suffering is persistent and inevitable. The good news is that suffering and wonder are connected. The suffering itself can lead to wonder. So now you don't necessarily need to go to a beautiful place and you don't even need to read a book. Just live your life. Just let the daily frustrations, aches and pains of living lead you to the wonder of living. Instead of masking the pain with addictive substances, you embrace it; you learn from it. You grow. This technique then becomes an emotional staycation. You don't have to go anywhere. Now the things that normally are a vexation, become a well-spring of wonder.
David Budbill writes, "Tonight at sunset, walking on the snowy road I stop and look up at the sky. I pause in this moment and I say a prayer of gratitude for getting to this evening, a prayer for being here, today, now, alive in this life, in this evening, under this sky." The beauty was all around him, but he wouldn't have seen it if he had not stopped and looked up.
We really shouldn't fill our days with meaningless obligations. And in spite of current pain and aggravations, we really "should" experience the joy and wonder of our surroundings. Or at least read good books by those who do.
Many years ago someone told me something that she often told herself: "I will not should on myself today." My wife and I have adopted that idea as our very own. But we comment from time to time that there are, in fact, some things that we "should" do. If you think about it, whereas it is very healthy to not fill our days with unwanted obligations, our day may need to include things that are a necessary and helpful to ourselves and other people. Some "shoulds" are good things.
So in the spirit of things that you "should" do, there are three books that you "should" read. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard, Walden by Henry David Thoreau and A Touch of Wonder by Arthur Gordon. I have read them all more than once. The three books are similar in very many ways, but each one is unique. Each one describes the transcendent effects of solitude and wonder. Each author invites us to observe and participate in the wonder all around us wherever we are every day.
There's a catch though to "wherever we are every day." In these books the authors are in either an extremely beautiful place or a place of extreme solitude, a place of intentional solitude. It would be so much better to read none of these books, go to a beautiful place and experience that place like these three authors do. If that is not possible in the near future, reading one of these books can be the next best thing. You can experience these places vicariously.
"Suffering" and the relief from suffering is a major theme of Buddhism. The word "suffering" in our experience usually suggests some sort of horrible physical situation. In Buddhism "suffering" is a condition that most of us deal with daily. Someone cuts you off in traffic, you salute them with a gesture, you sound your horn, you feel anger and frustration. This is "suffering". You left your sick child with a friend so that you could come to work. You feel badly that you can't be with her. You feel like a horrible mother. This is "suffering". You think about something you said to a friend that you wish you hadn't said. You struggle with whether or not to apologize or just let it go and hope for the best. This is really about all you can think about. This is "suffering." You reach for your phone in the console of your car and it's not there. You pull over and frantically search your purse and your car and it's not there. You have no idea where you left it. You experience a feeling of panic. This is "suffering".
"Suffering", according to Buddhist teaching, is the flip side of "attachment". We attach ourselves to things, thoughts and events and we "suffer". I am convinced that this type of daily, ordinary "suffering" is at the root of substance abuse. In the case of prescription drug abuse, people try to alleviate emotional pain with drugs that are intended for physical pain. Since the drugs are not designed to alleviate emotional pain, the person uses more and more of the substance for immediate relief but no lasting benefit. Now the person still has the pain and s/he is addicted to drugs. This lethal cycle of cause and effect becomes a death spiral.
The dictionary defines "wonder" as "surprise mingled with admiration caused by something beautiful and unexpected." Suffering is persistent and inevitable. The good news is that suffering and wonder are connected. The suffering itself can lead to wonder. So now you don't necessarily need to go to a beautiful place and you don't even need to read a book. Just live your life. Just let the daily frustrations, aches and pains of living lead you to the wonder of living. Instead of masking the pain with addictive substances, you embrace it; you learn from it. You grow. This technique then becomes an emotional staycation. You don't have to go anywhere. Now the things that normally are a vexation, become a well-spring of wonder.
David Budbill writes, "Tonight at sunset, walking on the snowy road I stop and look up at the sky. I pause in this moment and I say a prayer of gratitude for getting to this evening, a prayer for being here, today, now, alive in this life, in this evening, under this sky." The beauty was all around him, but he wouldn't have seen it if he had not stopped and looked up.
We really shouldn't fill our days with meaningless obligations. And in spite of current pain and aggravations, we really "should" experience the joy and wonder of our surroundings. Or at least read good books by those who do.
Monday, February 13, 2017
Beautiful, Beautiful Zion
"Be kindly affectioned to one another in brotherly love; in honour preferring one another." Romans 12:10 KJV
My older brother and I had a rather contentious relationship as children and as teenagers. It never really occurred to either one of us that we could be good friends. All that changed during the summer of 1971, the summer after I graduated from high school. He drove out of his way nearly 500 miles to spend less that twenty-four hours with me just because he thought I could use his company. Under the circumstances, I had never been more glad to see someone who cared about me in my life.
Since then it has not always been "nothing but love" in our friendship, How often is "nothing but love" a reality in any relationship? Friction happens between any two objects that touch. But since that day I have always known that my brother has had my back. I have always (usually) enjoyed his friendship and his company. Again, doesn't "always(usually)", if we're completely honest, apply even to the best of relationships?
If "brotherly love" had not been a reality before, it certainly was during and after a trip together to the south rim of the Grand Canyon in April of 1997. Except for a few inevitable close company for a week incidents, much fun was had by all. We stood at the rim about midnight seeing the Hale-Bopp Comet hanging in the sky above our heads. You could reach up and almost touch it. After exploring the south rim, Monument Valley, Canyon de Chelley and more, it was the two hours we spent in Sedona, Arizona on our way back to the airport that was the most significant. We both left a part of our souls in the Chapel of the Holy Cross. My big brother and I emerged from the trip being closer than when we had dived in.
Four years ago my brother gave me one of the most amazing and difficult challenges of my life. He told me that he wanted me to plan a trip for the two of us. "But here is the catch" he said. "I'm going to tell you how much money I'm willing to spend, how much time I'm willing to be gone and you plan the rest. I really don't care where we go or what we do; I just want you to spend time with you. You tell me what day and where to meet you and I'll show up."
When I started planning our trip, it was fun and exciting. However, very quickly in the process I had a huge problem. Thinking about the trip was a lot of fun; planning specific destinations was fairly difficult. When I travel it is my personality to defer to the group. I have preferences of things to see and do, but I really don't care. "Let's just enjoy each other's company." As a person born to please, I needed so badly to run ideas by him to see if that might be what he wanted to do. He had mentioned at times that he wanted to see New York City. He had suggested that he wanted to spend some time in Washington, D.C. He had mentioned a road trip up the east coast. He had expressed a desire to see the north rim of the Grand Canyon. But the challenge to me was to plan it with no input from him. None.
The trip was over a year in the making. I decided on the north rim as the hub of the trip. Like I said, I have preferences. Just staring at the map of the United States, I discovered Zion Canyon and Bryce Canyon, Utah, just a few hours road trip from the Grand Canyon. My initial plan was for us to fly in and out of Flagstaff, Arizona from Atlanta and end the trip in Sedona. But again just looking at the map I realized that the drive to the north rim was much closer from Las Vegas. So now we had another significant waypoint. It was a gamble, but I thought he might enjoy Las Vegas best of all. I lost that bet.
Although I did much of the thinking, I didn't do most of the planning. As I sketched in my general ideas for the trip, my wife made most of the decisions and reservations regarding "planes, trains and automobiles." We had seats on jets, food to eat, a nice car to drive and beds to sleep in all along the way because of her. She's a pharmacist. Details are what she does best. I'm a musician. Hiking through and appreciating the grandeur of the canyons of the American West is what I do best. I did have the foresight to obtain maps and turn- by-turn directions for the whole trip from AAA. In the last several days leading up to the trip I had had a sinking feeling that I was forgetting something. I checked everything several times. Reservations. Clothing. Credit Cards.Cash. I had everything I needed. At three o'clock in the morning, thirty miles down the road in the airport shuttle, to my horror I realized that I had left all the maps and the directions on my bookshelf at home. I told my brother, who was sitting beside me on the shuttle what I had done. He asked, "Then what are we going to do?" I said, "Give me a minute." I put my head in my hands, regretted being born and contemplated our plight. Nevada, Arizona and Utah with no maps or directions. I got an idea. My wife typed those turn-by-turn directions into an email and sent them to me. And we bought maps in the airport. Crisis averted.
The trip was nothing short of incredible. But when the entire experience was in the rear-view mirror., it was not the telescopes at Bryce, the Upper Emerald Falls or the hummingbirds in Springdale, but it was that accidental two hours we spent in the middle of the night in Zion that was the most memorable. At most canyons you look down. In Zion you look up. At two o'clock in the morning standing in a canyon looking up at mountain peaks in nothing but moonlight, you don't see the mountains, you hear them and feel them.. Whatever part of our souls that we had not left in Sedona, we had left there. During times of meditation and distress I take myself to that place and that night time and time again. And I was with my brother.
"Brotherly love" is a metaphor for deep feelings for another person. We can extend "brotherly love" to even strangers. But when brotherly love is a actual fact, a literal relationship, it is one of the most signifcant relationships possible. The bond is remarkable. My big brother left here this morning going home after a long weekend with my wife and me. Because of some family health issues, it had been quite a while. My wife, he and I had the usual experience of talking about days gone by, including those wonderful and difficult days of growing up together with our kid sister at 102 Glenn Street, Enterprise, Alabama. After they're gone, you can blame nearly everything on your parents. And, of course, we spent an abundance of time laughing. Last night he said, "I'm ready to go back west. And I want you to plan everything again." I told him that I would if he would just tell me where he wanted to start. With no hesitation, he said, "Zion Canyon."
With the limitations of time and money my brother had given me four years ago, I had to eliminate so many possibilities.When I looked at a map of the American West and explored the available national parks, the possibilities were endless. When I look again, those possibilities will still still be staggering in scope. But this time, with this trip I will know that if we somehow get stuck in Zion our trip will be complete. With any trip it's not where you go, but who you're with that you will remember. I'll be with my brother. And there are very few people who I enjoy spending time with more than him. "We're marching to Zion, beautiful, beautiful Zion. We're marching upward to Zion the beautiful city of God."
My older brother and I had a rather contentious relationship as children and as teenagers. It never really occurred to either one of us that we could be good friends. All that changed during the summer of 1971, the summer after I graduated from high school. He drove out of his way nearly 500 miles to spend less that twenty-four hours with me just because he thought I could use his company. Under the circumstances, I had never been more glad to see someone who cared about me in my life.
Since then it has not always been "nothing but love" in our friendship, How often is "nothing but love" a reality in any relationship? Friction happens between any two objects that touch. But since that day I have always known that my brother has had my back. I have always (usually) enjoyed his friendship and his company. Again, doesn't "always(usually)", if we're completely honest, apply even to the best of relationships?
If "brotherly love" had not been a reality before, it certainly was during and after a trip together to the south rim of the Grand Canyon in April of 1997. Except for a few inevitable close company for a week incidents, much fun was had by all. We stood at the rim about midnight seeing the Hale-Bopp Comet hanging in the sky above our heads. You could reach up and almost touch it. After exploring the south rim, Monument Valley, Canyon de Chelley and more, it was the two hours we spent in Sedona, Arizona on our way back to the airport that was the most significant. We both left a part of our souls in the Chapel of the Holy Cross. My big brother and I emerged from the trip being closer than when we had dived in.
Four years ago my brother gave me one of the most amazing and difficult challenges of my life. He told me that he wanted me to plan a trip for the two of us. "But here is the catch" he said. "I'm going to tell you how much money I'm willing to spend, how much time I'm willing to be gone and you plan the rest. I really don't care where we go or what we do; I just want you to spend time with you. You tell me what day and where to meet you and I'll show up."
When I started planning our trip, it was fun and exciting. However, very quickly in the process I had a huge problem. Thinking about the trip was a lot of fun; planning specific destinations was fairly difficult. When I travel it is my personality to defer to the group. I have preferences of things to see and do, but I really don't care. "Let's just enjoy each other's company." As a person born to please, I needed so badly to run ideas by him to see if that might be what he wanted to do. He had mentioned at times that he wanted to see New York City. He had suggested that he wanted to spend some time in Washington, D.C. He had mentioned a road trip up the east coast. He had expressed a desire to see the north rim of the Grand Canyon. But the challenge to me was to plan it with no input from him. None.
The trip was over a year in the making. I decided on the north rim as the hub of the trip. Like I said, I have preferences. Just staring at the map of the United States, I discovered Zion Canyon and Bryce Canyon, Utah, just a few hours road trip from the Grand Canyon. My initial plan was for us to fly in and out of Flagstaff, Arizona from Atlanta and end the trip in Sedona. But again just looking at the map I realized that the drive to the north rim was much closer from Las Vegas. So now we had another significant waypoint. It was a gamble, but I thought he might enjoy Las Vegas best of all. I lost that bet.
Although I did much of the thinking, I didn't do most of the planning. As I sketched in my general ideas for the trip, my wife made most of the decisions and reservations regarding "planes, trains and automobiles." We had seats on jets, food to eat, a nice car to drive and beds to sleep in all along the way because of her. She's a pharmacist. Details are what she does best. I'm a musician. Hiking through and appreciating the grandeur of the canyons of the American West is what I do best. I did have the foresight to obtain maps and turn- by-turn directions for the whole trip from AAA. In the last several days leading up to the trip I had had a sinking feeling that I was forgetting something. I checked everything several times. Reservations. Clothing. Credit Cards.Cash. I had everything I needed. At three o'clock in the morning, thirty miles down the road in the airport shuttle, to my horror I realized that I had left all the maps and the directions on my bookshelf at home. I told my brother, who was sitting beside me on the shuttle what I had done. He asked, "Then what are we going to do?" I said, "Give me a minute." I put my head in my hands, regretted being born and contemplated our plight. Nevada, Arizona and Utah with no maps or directions. I got an idea. My wife typed those turn-by-turn directions into an email and sent them to me. And we bought maps in the airport. Crisis averted.
The trip was nothing short of incredible. But when the entire experience was in the rear-view mirror., it was not the telescopes at Bryce, the Upper Emerald Falls or the hummingbirds in Springdale, but it was that accidental two hours we spent in the middle of the night in Zion that was the most memorable. At most canyons you look down. In Zion you look up. At two o'clock in the morning standing in a canyon looking up at mountain peaks in nothing but moonlight, you don't see the mountains, you hear them and feel them.. Whatever part of our souls that we had not left in Sedona, we had left there. During times of meditation and distress I take myself to that place and that night time and time again. And I was with my brother.
"Brotherly love" is a metaphor for deep feelings for another person. We can extend "brotherly love" to even strangers. But when brotherly love is a actual fact, a literal relationship, it is one of the most signifcant relationships possible. The bond is remarkable. My big brother left here this morning going home after a long weekend with my wife and me. Because of some family health issues, it had been quite a while. My wife, he and I had the usual experience of talking about days gone by, including those wonderful and difficult days of growing up together with our kid sister at 102 Glenn Street, Enterprise, Alabama. After they're gone, you can blame nearly everything on your parents. And, of course, we spent an abundance of time laughing. Last night he said, "I'm ready to go back west. And I want you to plan everything again." I told him that I would if he would just tell me where he wanted to start. With no hesitation, he said, "Zion Canyon."
With the limitations of time and money my brother had given me four years ago, I had to eliminate so many possibilities.When I looked at a map of the American West and explored the available national parks, the possibilities were endless. When I look again, those possibilities will still still be staggering in scope. But this time, with this trip I will know that if we somehow get stuck in Zion our trip will be complete. With any trip it's not where you go, but who you're with that you will remember. I'll be with my brother. And there are very few people who I enjoy spending time with more than him. "We're marching to Zion, beautiful, beautiful Zion. We're marching upward to Zion the beautiful city of God."
Thursday, February 9, 2017
Listening Skills
Music matters to me. I don't listen to music as a distraction like many people do, I listen to music to enjoy it and to consume it. I consume music like most people consume a bowl of ice cream. I leave nothing in the bowl. Like most people, I hear a lot of music that I don't want to hear, like in a store or a restaurant. I am forced to listen to the annoying music of commercials while in a waiting room. The latest assault is advertisements pouring from a screen on the gas pump. Just what I needed. More noise. Because I have to listen to so much music I don't want to hear, I listen to hours of music that I do want to hear. I enjoy it and it's also rather cathartic. It eradicates much of the soul-damning affects of all that other noise.
Music has been important to me for a long time. As a child and young adult I learned to play the piano and I sang for church and school events. From 1971 to 1979, I earned three degrees in music from three different colleges. Academically and as a performer I did very well.
When you study "music history" in a school in the United States, you are more than likely studying the history of "Western Music." "Western music" is European music handed down from the Greeks through the centuries to us. You will begin your study with Medieval music (including Gregorian chant) in the third century and then move through the Renaissance, the Baroque period, the Classical period, the Romantic period, the Modern period and the Contemporary period until today. You will be tested on the dates when each of these periods started and ended. Although for your study you need to know these dates, for your actual music education it's important to understand that these demarcations don't exist. The evolution of Western Music was gradual, continual and fluid. Beethoven, for example, is known as one of the greatest "Classical' composers. But if you understand "classical form", you'll hear that his Ninth Symphony blows "Classical form" to bits. . This symphony belongs firmly in the "Romantic" era. You could bridge any of the major periods of music history in the same way.
Something has recently happened in my music listening which, except for Spotify, could cause me a great deal of distress. It still causes me some stress, just not a great deal of distress. Some of my favorite CDs from the music of the 60s and 70s are beginning to skip and to fail. About twenty five years ago when my turntable broke, instead of getting it repaired, I threw it away and gave away all my albums. I didn't need them anymore because I had compact discs! I was led to believe that my digitally mastered CDs would be a much higher sound quality than vinyl, wouldn't scratch and would last forever.
Over the years my son has kept me current with the latest music listening services. Several years ago he told me about Pandora. I told him that I had a car stereo, XM radio, CDs and an iPod so I didn't need Pandora. He insisted that I give it a try. So I did. Pandora revolutionized the way I listened to music. The Pandora "radio stations" of my favorite artists provided hours of enjoyment and introduced me to a multitude of new bands and singers. I created those stations and the hits just kept on coming.
Then a few years ago he said, "Dad, you've got to download Spotify." I said, "I don't know anything about Spotify, but I don't need it. I've got Pandora, remember?" "Dad, you will love Spotify. It does things Pandora doesn't do. Just download it and use it." If Pandora took me to the moon, Spotify has taken me to the stars. I can not only listen to all my favorite bands from the 60s and 70s, but I can listen to music from all those periods of music history I mentioned. Besides The Association, I can listen to Couperin, Scarlatti and Vivaldi. Besides America, I can listen to Bach, or Mozart, or Schoenberg, or Bartok or Respigui. I can listen to Bread and the Beatles and also listen to Bernstein. All this happens because of the search box. I just type in the artist or the song and there it appears ready to play. I can also create radio stations just like with Pandora. But perhaps the best feature of all is the ability to create playlists. It's not a music crisis that my CDs won't play in my car, Spotify plays those albums flawlessly. One downside is that I paid for those CDs once. I pay for Spotify every month. I gladly pay for Spotify every month, I might add.
Good music matters to me. Music provides my solitude, my alternate state of consciousness. I don't smoke dope. I don't "drink"(very much). The only drugs I ingest are those prescribed by my doctors, in the amount they prescribe. I don't "get high" on anything. When I'm alone in my car, I'm listening to music, not just any music, but the music I choose. The source is XM, a CD or a Spotify playlist. When I'm home I don't watch much TV; I read or listen to music. So when Dan Fogelberg's Home Free failed to play a few days ago, it was an event. But not a crisis. I'm listening to it on Spotify even as we speak with my Bose noise-cancellation headphones. There's a correlation here. All this music I listen to at home and in the car serves as a mental and emotional "noise-cancellation" for me.
It's only a matter of time that my son will call and say "Dad, there's a new music service you've got to try called Andante. You'll love it!. Andante does things that Spotify can't do." And I'll say, "I don't need another service. I'm very happy with Spotify. I really can't imagine being any happier." He'll insist and I'll download it and be very glad I did.
Monday, February 6, 2017
He's Got the Whole World in His Hands
A friend of mine gave me a ring of wooden beads. He has a set of these beads that have helped him in prayer and meditation, so he gave me a set as well.
Beads have been used by Christians of many faith traditions for centuries as an aid to prayer and confession. Rosary beads began in the Roman Catholic tradition but are certainly not the exclusive tools of Catholics. In the Catholic tradition the beads are prompts for specific prayers that are prayed in a specific sequence. Millions of Christians benefit from this simple aid in meditation.
There are twenty-two beads on my string. I tried to assign a specific person to a specific bead, but since I have no way to label them, I have no way to remember them. I do, however, know the first six, three on each side of the apex. I use those beads to pray for each of these persons by name. After that I handle each bead and pray for different people and events. As I work around the string, the beads progressively represent a wider and wider audience until by the end I'm praying for the world.
This morning as I prayed for the world, I thought, "I've got the whole world in my hands" and I began to hum, "He's got the whole world in His Hands." My thoughts continued to flow. "I used to believe that",I thought, "I so want to believe that. But it's hard for me to believe that". I guess I believe it in a general sense that He created the world, set it among the planets and stars and is still watching it spin. But as I look at world events and how cruel human beings are to each other, as I see how events unfold in a random, helter-skelter way, as I consider that God is either not seeing any of that or He chooses not to intervene, I can't help but wonder if He's really got the whole world in His hands.These considerations are troubling to this man who sang this song as a child with deep a conviction of its literal meaning.
They say that the President of the United States of America is the most powerful person in the world. If that's so and if God also holds the whole world in His hand, then are we to believe that the president's opinions and actions are firmly in God's control? Do we have no choice but to believe that those actions are the will of God? If that's so, is God someone that we can honor, love and trust with our very lives and the lives of those we love?
"He's got the tiny little baby in His hands. He's got the tiny baby in His hands. He's got the tiny little baby in His hands. He's got the whole world in His hands." I spend every Sunday morning in the NICU of a local hospital. I have no words to describe how I feel when I'm holding, feeding and loving those babies. It's my church. The ambient noise of the unit--babies crying, machines beeping, nurses talking-- provides the music. The babies provide the sermon. And I provide the offering. But there is a price to pay for the love that I gladly give away. I ask the assigned nurse to tell me what's going on with each child because I want to know. A few of those stories are quite wonderful as you would think a baby's story would be. But many of those stories are heartbreaking. I want so badly to bring them home with me, to raise them in an atmosphere of warmth and love. I want to make sure they grow up with every opportunity to thrive. Yesterday morning I kiddingly asked the nurse if I could take my baby home for a weekend. The nurse was not kidding with her response. They protect those babies with their lives. They protect those babies' lives with their care. "No, you can't take her home for the weekend. She stays here".
"He's got you and me brother in His hands. He's got you and me sister in His hands. He's got everybody in His hands. He's got the whole world in His hands." You've seen the same photographs of the faces of refugee children that I have. The fate of these children and their families is now hanging in the balance. That balance is the judiciary system of the United States. The decisions that these judges make in the coming days will impact these families for the rest of their lives. The decisions could easily cost them their lives. "I hope to God He's watching. I hope to God He knows. I hope to God He cares. I wish to God He's got the whole world in His hands".
When my friend gave me this string of beads, I doubt he meant for me to use them to try to work out the world's problems. I'm sure he meant for them to bring me much comfort and joy. Yesterday as I prayed for the little girl I was holding in the NICU, I wondered if what I was doing made any difference to her, especially since she was asleep for most of our experience. Then the "still small voice" said, "All you can do is what I do. Just love her now for the little while you're with her. That can make all the difference in the world. And never forget. While you're rocking her and loving her, you've got her whole world in your hands."
Beads have been used by Christians of many faith traditions for centuries as an aid to prayer and confession. Rosary beads began in the Roman Catholic tradition but are certainly not the exclusive tools of Catholics. In the Catholic tradition the beads are prompts for specific prayers that are prayed in a specific sequence. Millions of Christians benefit from this simple aid in meditation.
There are twenty-two beads on my string. I tried to assign a specific person to a specific bead, but since I have no way to label them, I have no way to remember them. I do, however, know the first six, three on each side of the apex. I use those beads to pray for each of these persons by name. After that I handle each bead and pray for different people and events. As I work around the string, the beads progressively represent a wider and wider audience until by the end I'm praying for the world.
This morning as I prayed for the world, I thought, "I've got the whole world in my hands" and I began to hum, "He's got the whole world in His Hands." My thoughts continued to flow. "I used to believe that",I thought, "I so want to believe that. But it's hard for me to believe that". I guess I believe it in a general sense that He created the world, set it among the planets and stars and is still watching it spin. But as I look at world events and how cruel human beings are to each other, as I see how events unfold in a random, helter-skelter way, as I consider that God is either not seeing any of that or He chooses not to intervene, I can't help but wonder if He's really got the whole world in His hands.These considerations are troubling to this man who sang this song as a child with deep a conviction of its literal meaning.
They say that the President of the United States of America is the most powerful person in the world. If that's so and if God also holds the whole world in His hand, then are we to believe that the president's opinions and actions are firmly in God's control? Do we have no choice but to believe that those actions are the will of God? If that's so, is God someone that we can honor, love and trust with our very lives and the lives of those we love?
"He's got the tiny little baby in His hands. He's got the tiny baby in His hands. He's got the tiny little baby in His hands. He's got the whole world in His hands." I spend every Sunday morning in the NICU of a local hospital. I have no words to describe how I feel when I'm holding, feeding and loving those babies. It's my church. The ambient noise of the unit--babies crying, machines beeping, nurses talking-- provides the music. The babies provide the sermon. And I provide the offering. But there is a price to pay for the love that I gladly give away. I ask the assigned nurse to tell me what's going on with each child because I want to know. A few of those stories are quite wonderful as you would think a baby's story would be. But many of those stories are heartbreaking. I want so badly to bring them home with me, to raise them in an atmosphere of warmth and love. I want to make sure they grow up with every opportunity to thrive. Yesterday morning I kiddingly asked the nurse if I could take my baby home for a weekend. The nurse was not kidding with her response. They protect those babies with their lives. They protect those babies' lives with their care. "No, you can't take her home for the weekend. She stays here".
"He's got you and me brother in His hands. He's got you and me sister in His hands. He's got everybody in His hands. He's got the whole world in His hands." You've seen the same photographs of the faces of refugee children that I have. The fate of these children and their families is now hanging in the balance. That balance is the judiciary system of the United States. The decisions that these judges make in the coming days will impact these families for the rest of their lives. The decisions could easily cost them their lives. "I hope to God He's watching. I hope to God He knows. I hope to God He cares. I wish to God He's got the whole world in His hands".
When my friend gave me this string of beads, I doubt he meant for me to use them to try to work out the world's problems. I'm sure he meant for them to bring me much comfort and joy. Yesterday as I prayed for the little girl I was holding in the NICU, I wondered if what I was doing made any difference to her, especially since she was asleep for most of our experience. Then the "still small voice" said, "All you can do is what I do. Just love her now for the little while you're with her. That can make all the difference in the world. And never forget. While you're rocking her and loving her, you've got her whole world in your hands."
Sunday, February 5, 2017
In Case You Ever Get Stuck
"Even with darkness sealing us in
We breathe Your name.
And through the days that follow so fast
We trust in You.
Endless Your grace,
O endless Your grace
Beyond all mortal dream
Both now and forever
And unto ages and ages.
Amen"
from Pilgrims' Hymn, Stephen Paulus
In an article in Psychology Today, Joseph E. LaDoux, PhD, postulates that there is no "fear center" in the brain. He also suggests that although unconscious responses to danger originate in the amygdala, it is not correct to say that, as most scientists do, this is the "fear center" of the brain. He has come to believe that fear is a conscious response and not an unconscious one. In other words the adrenaline, cortisol and other powerful neurotransmitters that surge from your brain through your nervous system in a split second is there because you requested them. For better or for worse our brain is a "your wish is my command" organism. It accommodates whatever physical and mental state we want to be in.
Over the years I have had several very close calls. To say "I almost got killed" would not be correct because only in one case was I even hurt that much. In that case the ER attendant said, "You're very lucky you didn't break your neck". But I was very lucky. I didn't break my neck.
This situation is certainly not one when my life was in any immediate danger. And yet for about two minutes you could not have convinced my nervous system that that was not the case. Truth be known, it was probably a combination of "I think I am about to die" with "I hope I'm about to die." When I listen to Pilgrims' Hymn I always think of miners who get trapped underground. Unless there was an explosion, many of them stay underground in near darkness or complete darkness for days until they are rescued or until they die. So I explain what happened to me with deep apologies to those who were actually hopelessly trapped. And especially to the families of those who actually died.
My job involves inspecting the crawl spaces of houses. The industry vernacular is "crawl a house" or just "crawl." You do not need to explain to anyone in the office that it was a house you crawled under. The bitter irony for me of this occupational hazard is that I am somewhat claustrophobic and I am somewhat afraid of the dark. Then this reality is rather funny; I don't really like getting hot and dirty. These are cruel combinations for someone who has spent as much time as I have under someone's house. My number one fear is to have a flashlight failure in a remote corner of the space. A close second to that is that I get stuck with no one near to help me. To deal with the first scenario, I carry an extra light in my pocket. To deal with the second, I am very careful not to squeeze myself into a space where I might get stuck.
Crawling a house is to maneuver an obstacle course in the dark. The only light is what you have in your hand. If you turn it off, as I have done from time to time, you are in complete darkness. Each crawl space has its own personality. You respect each one and you're very careful in each one. To say you're risking your life is a bit of an overstatement,, but deaths do happen. Technicians have been bitten by poisonous snakes and many have been electrocuted. Some spaces are open; many are tight and cramped. In those you have to crawl over and under duct work, plumbing and be very careful of live electrical current. The more stuff I crawl past, over and under the more claustrophobic I get. My psyche is well aware that all of these obstacles are now between me and the crawl door. Every. Single.One.
On this particular morning I was crawling a large cabin near Reliance, Tennessee. One of the reasons I say that my life was never in danger is because the owners were home. They would have eventually missed me and come looking for me. But I still shudder to consider how long that might have taken. The crawl space was very crowded. I had crawled over and under a lot of stuff to get to the very back corner of the space. I was already more than a little apprehensive with the situation. As I said, I'm very careful, but what happened I had no way to see coming. The large PVC pipe was too low to crawl under but almost too high to crawl over. I opted to go over it. I put once leg over careful not to knock it down with my body weight. Only after I lifted my other leg over the pipe did I realize the predicament I had put myself in. My flashlight now revealed that the metal duct work in front of me was much too low to crawl under. I also realized that in the extremely cramped space there was no way to go back over the PVC. I was stuck. Norepineprine, acetycholine, adrenaline and cortisol exploded in my nervous system. And according to Dr. LaDoux, I requested them. My body was simultaneously freezing cold and sweating hot. My heart was racing, my breathing was labored, and my hands were shaking. I was in trouble.
Because of some therapy regarding panic, I started doing the things I had been taught. "Slow your breathing. Slow your breathing. Slow your breathing. Calm yourself down. The panic is not your friend". After I settled down a bit I did the next thing, "Take inventory of your situation and find a way out." I was able to turn and shine my light in a direction I had not looked. There in front of me was a huge flexible duct pipe. It's the largest duct work I had ever seen. I looked at it and again considered my options. "You can stay here in this cramped spot for an indefinite amount of time or you can crawl under that pipe." I crawled toward the pipe and pushed my arms and head under far enough to see if it gave. And it did. At this point, of course, I had no idea if I would get stuck under it or what was on the other side of it. The frying pan into the fire? I mustered my courage, pushed my arms underneath, pulled my head under and pushed with my feet. As my head and torso were completely under the weight of the pipe, my head broke free on the other side. In that second with my flashlight I realized two things, there was nothing else in my way and I was going to be able to pull the rest of my body through. It was a very tight squeeze to say the least, but within seconds I was free.
In that accident I didn't break my neck. I could have died, but I didn't. In that crawl space I didn't almost die. Technically, I didn't even get stuck. I felt like I was stuck. My nervous system certainly thought I was stuck. As it turned out my forward progress was only hindered for a few minutes.
There are many more ways to "get stuck" than in a crawl space, aren't there? We've all been stuck in one way or another. I'm offering little advice, but if you're stuck there is always a way out. You just have to figure it out. I'm writing this because I broke free. It wasn't a pleasant experience, but I did what I had to do to get unstuck. Slow your breathing. Calm down. Use available light to survey the situation. And find a way out.
Because of changes in my job responsibilities I don't crawl houses all that often anymore. I can't say that I miss it very much. But I'm grateful for the lessons that crawl spaces have taught me. And, frankly, I'm very proud of myself for diving through those crawl doors into the unknown. Like so many jobs we do, the best part is when it's done. After spending forty-five minutes in a damp, dark, crowded crawl space with spider webs and camel crickets in my face, there is nothing like finally crawling into the light of day. There I am greeted by my best friends-- dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin and endorphins. "Endless Your grace. O endless Your grace. Both now and forever. Amen."
We breathe Your name.
And through the days that follow so fast
We trust in You.
Endless Your grace,
O endless Your grace
Beyond all mortal dream
Both now and forever
And unto ages and ages.
Amen"
from Pilgrims' Hymn, Stephen Paulus
In an article in Psychology Today, Joseph E. LaDoux, PhD, postulates that there is no "fear center" in the brain. He also suggests that although unconscious responses to danger originate in the amygdala, it is not correct to say that, as most scientists do, this is the "fear center" of the brain. He has come to believe that fear is a conscious response and not an unconscious one. In other words the adrenaline, cortisol and other powerful neurotransmitters that surge from your brain through your nervous system in a split second is there because you requested them. For better or for worse our brain is a "your wish is my command" organism. It accommodates whatever physical and mental state we want to be in.
Over the years I have had several very close calls. To say "I almost got killed" would not be correct because only in one case was I even hurt that much. In that case the ER attendant said, "You're very lucky you didn't break your neck". But I was very lucky. I didn't break my neck.
This situation is certainly not one when my life was in any immediate danger. And yet for about two minutes you could not have convinced my nervous system that that was not the case. Truth be known, it was probably a combination of "I think I am about to die" with "I hope I'm about to die." When I listen to Pilgrims' Hymn I always think of miners who get trapped underground. Unless there was an explosion, many of them stay underground in near darkness or complete darkness for days until they are rescued or until they die. So I explain what happened to me with deep apologies to those who were actually hopelessly trapped. And especially to the families of those who actually died.
My job involves inspecting the crawl spaces of houses. The industry vernacular is "crawl a house" or just "crawl." You do not need to explain to anyone in the office that it was a house you crawled under. The bitter irony for me of this occupational hazard is that I am somewhat claustrophobic and I am somewhat afraid of the dark. Then this reality is rather funny; I don't really like getting hot and dirty. These are cruel combinations for someone who has spent as much time as I have under someone's house. My number one fear is to have a flashlight failure in a remote corner of the space. A close second to that is that I get stuck with no one near to help me. To deal with the first scenario, I carry an extra light in my pocket. To deal with the second, I am very careful not to squeeze myself into a space where I might get stuck.
Crawling a house is to maneuver an obstacle course in the dark. The only light is what you have in your hand. If you turn it off, as I have done from time to time, you are in complete darkness. Each crawl space has its own personality. You respect each one and you're very careful in each one. To say you're risking your life is a bit of an overstatement,, but deaths do happen. Technicians have been bitten by poisonous snakes and many have been electrocuted. Some spaces are open; many are tight and cramped. In those you have to crawl over and under duct work, plumbing and be very careful of live electrical current. The more stuff I crawl past, over and under the more claustrophobic I get. My psyche is well aware that all of these obstacles are now between me and the crawl door. Every. Single.One.
On this particular morning I was crawling a large cabin near Reliance, Tennessee. One of the reasons I say that my life was never in danger is because the owners were home. They would have eventually missed me and come looking for me. But I still shudder to consider how long that might have taken. The crawl space was very crowded. I had crawled over and under a lot of stuff to get to the very back corner of the space. I was already more than a little apprehensive with the situation. As I said, I'm very careful, but what happened I had no way to see coming. The large PVC pipe was too low to crawl under but almost too high to crawl over. I opted to go over it. I put once leg over careful not to knock it down with my body weight. Only after I lifted my other leg over the pipe did I realize the predicament I had put myself in. My flashlight now revealed that the metal duct work in front of me was much too low to crawl under. I also realized that in the extremely cramped space there was no way to go back over the PVC. I was stuck. Norepineprine, acetycholine, adrenaline and cortisol exploded in my nervous system. And according to Dr. LaDoux, I requested them. My body was simultaneously freezing cold and sweating hot. My heart was racing, my breathing was labored, and my hands were shaking. I was in trouble.
Because of some therapy regarding panic, I started doing the things I had been taught. "Slow your breathing. Slow your breathing. Slow your breathing. Calm yourself down. The panic is not your friend". After I settled down a bit I did the next thing, "Take inventory of your situation and find a way out." I was able to turn and shine my light in a direction I had not looked. There in front of me was a huge flexible duct pipe. It's the largest duct work I had ever seen. I looked at it and again considered my options. "You can stay here in this cramped spot for an indefinite amount of time or you can crawl under that pipe." I crawled toward the pipe and pushed my arms and head under far enough to see if it gave. And it did. At this point, of course, I had no idea if I would get stuck under it or what was on the other side of it. The frying pan into the fire? I mustered my courage, pushed my arms underneath, pulled my head under and pushed with my feet. As my head and torso were completely under the weight of the pipe, my head broke free on the other side. In that second with my flashlight I realized two things, there was nothing else in my way and I was going to be able to pull the rest of my body through. It was a very tight squeeze to say the least, but within seconds I was free.
In that accident I didn't break my neck. I could have died, but I didn't. In that crawl space I didn't almost die. Technically, I didn't even get stuck. I felt like I was stuck. My nervous system certainly thought I was stuck. As it turned out my forward progress was only hindered for a few minutes.
There are many more ways to "get stuck" than in a crawl space, aren't there? We've all been stuck in one way or another. I'm offering little advice, but if you're stuck there is always a way out. You just have to figure it out. I'm writing this because I broke free. It wasn't a pleasant experience, but I did what I had to do to get unstuck. Slow your breathing. Calm down. Use available light to survey the situation. And find a way out.
Because of changes in my job responsibilities I don't crawl houses all that often anymore. I can't say that I miss it very much. But I'm grateful for the lessons that crawl spaces have taught me. And, frankly, I'm very proud of myself for diving through those crawl doors into the unknown. Like so many jobs we do, the best part is when it's done. After spending forty-five minutes in a damp, dark, crowded crawl space with spider webs and camel crickets in my face, there is nothing like finally crawling into the light of day. There I am greeted by my best friends-- dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin and endorphins. "Endless Your grace. O endless Your grace. Both now and forever. Amen."
Friday, February 3, 2017
Between a Rock and a Hard Place
I am profoundly affected by sound and by noise. "The older I get" the more easily annoyed I am by sound, especially television. My counselor of twenty-five years put it in perspective for me, though. He said, "I'm sure that you are familiar with the phrase 'set in your ways'". I assured him that growing up in south Alabama I was very familiar with it. He added, " 'Set in your ways' means that you progressively tolerate fewer and fewer things. You like what you like and don't like everything else."
This morning at the Nissan dealership I had two bad choices. I could sit in the waiting room with extremely annoying daytime TV or I could sit in the showroom with a new TV on Fox News. I always take my Bose earbuds and sit in the showroom away from the TV. This morning that was not possible. Either place I was sitting near a TV. My music helps, but because of tinnitus there is only so much volume I can tolerate. I sat in the waiting room, but the very happy cooking program bled through Tori Amos. I mean very happy. Those people were happier than when the passengers on the Mayflower spied land. Those people were happier than Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin when the engines fired on the Lunar Excursion Module to return to the Command Module for the trip home. They were that happy. And Fox News? I would much prefer a root canal than listen to five minutes of Fox News. When the history of our county is written it will show that Fox News was a primary contributor to the downfall of America. This morning I heard how "the media" is twisting current events and skewing it all against President Trump. "The media"? "The media?" What are you Fox News, a lemonade stand?
I finally found a spot that worked pretty well. I discovered that if I sat in a chair in the showroom away from Fox News and toward the very happy people on the other TV, the noises somewhat cancelled each other out. What I mean by that is since I couldn't understand the dialogue on either program, I was able to focus on the music. Within a few minutes my brain became a noise-cancellation processor and Tori Amos became my only friend. When the service manager told me the car was ready, I wasn't quite ready to leave.
I just finished reading a book called "Annoying: The Science of What Bugs Us." As it turns out, it was exactly that, a book of science and not a self-help book. The authors Joe Palca and Flora Lichtman chronicled study after study of things that we let bother us. And possibly why they bother us. The first study was about hearing fingernails being pulled down a chalkboard. Their research went all the way back to cave man days and showed that our aversion to that noise at one time was a part of our very survival. Our annoyance to that horrible sound is literally in our DNA.
For the record, put me in a room with four people pulling their fingernails down a chalkboard before you leave me in a room with a cooking show or Fox News. And it's okay if I'm in the room getting a root canal. My dentist is happy, but he's not that happy.
So am I "set in my ways"? Not quite. But I'm getting there fast.
This morning at the Nissan dealership I had two bad choices. I could sit in the waiting room with extremely annoying daytime TV or I could sit in the showroom with a new TV on Fox News. I always take my Bose earbuds and sit in the showroom away from the TV. This morning that was not possible. Either place I was sitting near a TV. My music helps, but because of tinnitus there is only so much volume I can tolerate. I sat in the waiting room, but the very happy cooking program bled through Tori Amos. I mean very happy. Those people were happier than when the passengers on the Mayflower spied land. Those people were happier than Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin when the engines fired on the Lunar Excursion Module to return to the Command Module for the trip home. They were that happy. And Fox News? I would much prefer a root canal than listen to five minutes of Fox News. When the history of our county is written it will show that Fox News was a primary contributor to the downfall of America. This morning I heard how "the media" is twisting current events and skewing it all against President Trump. "The media"? "The media?" What are you Fox News, a lemonade stand?
I finally found a spot that worked pretty well. I discovered that if I sat in a chair in the showroom away from Fox News and toward the very happy people on the other TV, the noises somewhat cancelled each other out. What I mean by that is since I couldn't understand the dialogue on either program, I was able to focus on the music. Within a few minutes my brain became a noise-cancellation processor and Tori Amos became my only friend. When the service manager told me the car was ready, I wasn't quite ready to leave.
I just finished reading a book called "Annoying: The Science of What Bugs Us." As it turns out, it was exactly that, a book of science and not a self-help book. The authors Joe Palca and Flora Lichtman chronicled study after study of things that we let bother us. And possibly why they bother us. The first study was about hearing fingernails being pulled down a chalkboard. Their research went all the way back to cave man days and showed that our aversion to that noise at one time was a part of our very survival. Our annoyance to that horrible sound is literally in our DNA.
For the record, put me in a room with four people pulling their fingernails down a chalkboard before you leave me in a room with a cooking show or Fox News. And it's okay if I'm in the room getting a root canal. My dentist is happy, but he's not that happy.
So am I "set in my ways"? Not quite. But I'm getting there fast.
Wednesday, February 1, 2017
Systemness. It's Closer than You Think
"Systemness is the state, quality, or condition of a complex system, that is, of a set of interconnected elements that behave as, or appear to be, a whole, exhibiting behavior distinct from the behavior of the parts."
Businesses and other organizations adopt buzz words from time to time. I drove by some silos in Kentucky this weekend and remembered when a company I worked for was all about "business silos." The idea was to dissolve the silos and integrate various parts of the organization into a strategic whole. A local hospital that I have some dealings with has adopted the word "systemness." The term is popping up in a variety of memos and publications throughout the organization. When I'm not familiar with a word, many times I look it up. I had to read this definition several times before I understood its general meaning and had an idea of why a hospital might consider the word to be useful.
If you found the definition above to be rather convoluted and confusing, let me offer an abridged definition. I will eliminate most of the phrases separated by commas and it should make more sense. "Systemness is a complex system that because of its interconnected elements exhibits behavior distinct from the behavior of the parts. In other words, the sum of its parts exists separate from the parts themselves".
I have an idea how the hospital may be integrating "systemness" into its operation. But I also thought of some examples of "systemness" right where we live.
Marriage is "systemness". Marriage is the union of two separate individuals. Individually each partner is a living, breathing organism totally separate from his or her spouse. In normal circumstances, neither spouse is dependent on the other for life itself. If one spouse dies, the other one goes on living. But when a couple gets married, the marriage creates something else. The union now exists separately from each partner. I've never particularly liked the unity candle in a wedding ceremony. Usually the parents of the bride and groom light a candle on either side of the unity candle. During the ceremony the bride and groom light the unity candle and extinguish their individual candle. It's a beautiful image but it bothers me with the suggestion that each person ceases to exist and only the marriage exists. You now have this uniperson that replaces two people. On the other hand, the marriage is, in fact, created. There is now a new entity that exists. You now have the bride, the groom and their marriage. My solution for the ceremony is for the bride and groom to light the unity candle and not extinguish his or her own candle. Problem solved.
I talked with a widow recently who lost her husband last October. They had been married for over fifty years. As you would expect, her grief knew no bounds. It was difficult for her to talk about her deceased husband at all. So back to my comment that one of the spouses can die and the other one goes on living. Physically, this is true. Emotionally, it is not true. She had not only lost her spouse, but she had lost her marriage, as well. So two "people" were gone. Even if she eventually marries someone else, that marriage is gone. Losing her husband and her marriage is not something that she will ever completely get over.
Termites exhibit "systemness" A termite colony is a living, breathing and thriving community. One termite colony may have tens of thousands of termites living in and around it. Termites depend on each other for their own existence and the existence of the colony. Everything an individual termite does is for the benefit of the queen and to ensure the survival of the colony. There is one queen. She does nothing but lay eggs day and night. The soldiers protect the queen while the workers search for food. Since soldiers can't eat, the workers not only feed themselves, but feed the soldiers as well. The soldiers would all die without that sustenance. And then the queen and the entire colony would die as well. So although there are thousands of termites in a colony and each one is very much alive, the colony itself exists as a super-organism separate from those termites. The colony is a living thing.
So now is there some correlation between a marriage and subterranean termites? Well for starters, I've established that they both exhibit "systemness." Furthermore, in a marriage, if you stop feeding each other, your house will fall down. But with the termites, if they keep feeding each other, your house will fall down.
Businesses and other organizations adopt buzz words from time to time. I drove by some silos in Kentucky this weekend and remembered when a company I worked for was all about "business silos." The idea was to dissolve the silos and integrate various parts of the organization into a strategic whole. A local hospital that I have some dealings with has adopted the word "systemness." The term is popping up in a variety of memos and publications throughout the organization. When I'm not familiar with a word, many times I look it up. I had to read this definition several times before I understood its general meaning and had an idea of why a hospital might consider the word to be useful.
If you found the definition above to be rather convoluted and confusing, let me offer an abridged definition. I will eliminate most of the phrases separated by commas and it should make more sense. "Systemness is a complex system that because of its interconnected elements exhibits behavior distinct from the behavior of the parts. In other words, the sum of its parts exists separate from the parts themselves".
I have an idea how the hospital may be integrating "systemness" into its operation. But I also thought of some examples of "systemness" right where we live.
Marriage is "systemness". Marriage is the union of two separate individuals. Individually each partner is a living, breathing organism totally separate from his or her spouse. In normal circumstances, neither spouse is dependent on the other for life itself. If one spouse dies, the other one goes on living. But when a couple gets married, the marriage creates something else. The union now exists separately from each partner. I've never particularly liked the unity candle in a wedding ceremony. Usually the parents of the bride and groom light a candle on either side of the unity candle. During the ceremony the bride and groom light the unity candle and extinguish their individual candle. It's a beautiful image but it bothers me with the suggestion that each person ceases to exist and only the marriage exists. You now have this uniperson that replaces two people. On the other hand, the marriage is, in fact, created. There is now a new entity that exists. You now have the bride, the groom and their marriage. My solution for the ceremony is for the bride and groom to light the unity candle and not extinguish his or her own candle. Problem solved.
I talked with a widow recently who lost her husband last October. They had been married for over fifty years. As you would expect, her grief knew no bounds. It was difficult for her to talk about her deceased husband at all. So back to my comment that one of the spouses can die and the other one goes on living. Physically, this is true. Emotionally, it is not true. She had not only lost her spouse, but she had lost her marriage, as well. So two "people" were gone. Even if she eventually marries someone else, that marriage is gone. Losing her husband and her marriage is not something that she will ever completely get over.
Termites exhibit "systemness" A termite colony is a living, breathing and thriving community. One termite colony may have tens of thousands of termites living in and around it. Termites depend on each other for their own existence and the existence of the colony. Everything an individual termite does is for the benefit of the queen and to ensure the survival of the colony. There is one queen. She does nothing but lay eggs day and night. The soldiers protect the queen while the workers search for food. Since soldiers can't eat, the workers not only feed themselves, but feed the soldiers as well. The soldiers would all die without that sustenance. And then the queen and the entire colony would die as well. So although there are thousands of termites in a colony and each one is very much alive, the colony itself exists as a super-organism separate from those termites. The colony is a living thing.
So now is there some correlation between a marriage and subterranean termites? Well for starters, I've established that they both exhibit "systemness." Furthermore, in a marriage, if you stop feeding each other, your house will fall down. But with the termites, if they keep feeding each other, your house will fall down.
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